Hiding in Plain Sight
by Moira Flott
Summary: Highschool AU. After the death of her parents, Amelia's brother, Matthew, sells the family business and moves them to Queens, New York. There, Amelia changes her identity, becoming a boy named Alfred in order to protect herself. But when a certain Russian finds out, he may tell the whole school. Is Amelia's secret safe? RusAme. Human names used. Fem!America.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The sunlight streamed in through the dirty window of Amelia's room. It wasn't just the window that was dirty; the entire apartment that she shared with her older brother seemed to never be clean, no matter how hard they scrubbed. Not exactly a perk of living in Queens, but where else could they live? They had managed to keep the family business alive for a few years after the accident, but it went belly up a few months ago, at the start of summer. Matthew sold the business, packed up their stuff, and found the cheapest apartment he could. The only thing that really upset Amelia was that she had to leave their old house behind. She didn't have many friends, mainly because she was a girl who acted like a guy, and dressed like a guy. Well, sometimes. When they moved, she told Matthew to leave all of her old clothes behind, insisting that if she was going to a tough school, it would be better to be a boy. He reluctantly agreed to give her men's clothing, but he insisted that she kept the clothes she wore as a girl, so that she could be herself on the weekends. A sharp knock on the door caused her to shoot up in bed.

"Amelia, wake up!" Matthew called. "It's your first day of school!"

Amelia groaned and climbed out of bed, pushing her glasses on her face as she did so. She opened the door a crack and peered out blearily. "It's Alfred."

"Yeah, kiddo, whatever." Her half-brother ruffled her hair and went back into the kitchen.

She groaned again and started getting ready. She wasn't quite sure how to do this, but she was pretty sure she had seen enough information on the internet to do it right. She pulled on her sports bra and grabbed a strip of cloth. Her golden hair, already short, had been cut even shorter by Matthew to give it a more boyish look. She flipped her hair straightener on; the curls in her hair were still there. As she waited for it to heat up, she pulled on an over-large t-shirt and a pair of jeans, which she fastened with a belt. Almost everything she was wearing was her brother's. Matthew was exasperated, but he did dote on her ever since the death of her father and their mother.

The straightener was hot enough, so Amelia slipped her locks between the flat-irons. It was painstaking work, and when she was done there was still one lone curl sticking up near her forehead. After several attempts to flatten it, she gave up and stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Only she wasn't a she anymore. She was no longer Amelia Frieda Jones, she was now Alfred Fitzgerald Jones. She drew herself up a little bit taller, not quite six feet tall, but close. So close. She-He cursed his shortness before pulling on his shoes and going into the kitchen.

"Hey, Matt, how do I look?" He lowered his voice, sounding more like a 17 year-old boy.

"And so my sister becomes my brother. You sure you want to do this?" Matthew gave him his usual nervous stare over the top edge of his glasses.

"Yeah." Alfred said, nodding assuredly. "Back at my old school, everyone thought I was weird because I acted like a boy. Now I am a boy, so there's no reason for me to be made fun of."

"Just don't get into fights." He flipped a few pancakes onto a plate and slid it in Alfred's direction. Alfred picked up the plate and sat down at the table.

"Going on a job search again today?" He asked, taking a bite. God, was it possible for Matthew to cook anything poorly? Probably not. Matthew Williams was the best cook Alfred knew.

"Yeah." Matt said, plopping down across from him. "Gotta put my little brother through school, eh?"

Alfred laughed a little at the Canadian accent that he never seemed to lose. "I have a job too, you know." Matt shook his head.

"You shouldn't have to have a job, Amelia." She narrowed her eyes. "I mean, Alfred." He amended hastily. "You should be a normal teenage guy."

"I'm not a normal teenage guy." He winked and shoveled down the rest of his pancakes.

"Yeah, you're really going to convince people you're a guy with that." He responded sarcastically.

"Whatever." Alfred rinsed his plate and picked up his book bag. "Don't worry, I'll turn back into Amelia when I get home from school." He kissed Matthew's cheek and headed to the door. "I promise."

Matthew just chuckled and waved him off. Alfred waved back and the door to the apartment slammed shut. He paused for a moment, breathing in the noxious air of Queens, New York. He wasn't sure how he felt about going to an intercity school. He'd heard that they were a lot harsher than the schools he was accustomed to. Well, surely they liked to play video games. Who didn't? Feeling a little more confident, he drew himself up taller and began walking, no, strutting to school. He whistled a cheerful tune, and slung his bag over his shoulder.

The trek to school wasn't long, maybe 10 minutes, but the time flew as he looked at people hurrying about. Early morning looks, or the looks of people who had been working all night. They were very similar looks, but Alfred was pretty sure he could discern the difference. He checked the time on his flip-phone, which he had miraculously managed to keep on due to his waitressing job. 8:22 a.m. Still plenty of time, given that school started at 8:45. He had wanted to sleep in later, but Matthew insisted he be at school early to get his schedule and get a student guide. Despite this, there was a certain spring in his step. He needed this. This was a new beginning, and he could finally be himself. This idea excited him almost as much as starting school did.

Alfred had always loved school. Well, he loved learning, anyway. He could do without the people. They didn't seem to understand that just because she was always willing to help, didn't mean she was a doormat. Amelia had to put up with a lot of crap because of this. Her parents told her fantastic stories about noble heroes who rescued princesses. Amelia always identified more with the heroes than the princesses. When she told her parents, weird looks crossed their faces, but then they smiled and agreed; the heroes were impressive. If she wanted to be a hero and save the day, well then she could be.

Of course, confidence is fleeting. The high school wasn't that big. Alfred knew that there were bigger schools out there in New York, but it's imperious and unfeeling windows seemed to stare into the very depths of his soul. And it knew. It knew that it wasn't a handsome young man in somewhat baggy clothes walking up the steps. It knew that it was a girl, with a bound chest and her big brother's hand-me-downs. Still, he rolled his shoulders back and pushed open the door.

Inside was clean, but dingy. Not unlike the apartment. Alfred found a door with the 'Guidance Office' emblazoned on it. Shrugging, he stepped into the medium sized lobby area, noticing a timid looking kid with short blonde hair and blue eyes, intelligent looking with his spectacles. He seemed to be an office worker, so Alfred walked up to him.

"Hey, kid." Alfred said, practicing his 'man-voice'. "I know you're probably hassled, it being the first day and all, but I'm new here. Not freshman new, transfer new. I was told in an email that this was where I was supposed to get my schedule?"

The kid nodded and stood up, holding out a hand for Alfred to shake. He did so, paying careful note as he told Alfred his name. "My name's Eduard." He said, voice slightly accented. "Eduard Von Bock."

"Where'd you get a name like that, Ed?"

"It's Eduard. My grandparents immigrated here from Estonia."

Alfred let out a long whistle. "Wow. That's incredible. You must spend a lot of time with your grandparents, then, to have an accent like that!"

"This is a very ethnic part of Queens." Eduard explained, handing Alfred his schedule. "We've got Italians and Germans and a lot of people from Eastern Europe, including a lot of the teachers."

"Wow! That is, like, so cool." Eduard raised an eyebrow as Alfred clapped a hand over his mouth. He had, for a moment, slipped back into being Amelia in his excitement.

"You sound like this kid I know. He is Polish and he lets the 'like' slip out more often than he should." Alfred exhaled in relief as Eduard spoke. Looks like this kid would make a good friend.

"What's his name?"

"Feliks." Eduard said, vaguely, standing closer to Alfred to show him how the school corresponded with his schedule. "Okay, math and science classes are on the top floor, auto shop is down here on the first level, not to mention the gym, where you'll have weight training, as well as English and other languages. Looks like you're only taking English, though."

"I took two years of French, but I was never any good at it."

"Did you at least pass?" Eduard raised his eye brows at the blonde's confession.

"Yeah…" He said evasively, shifting on his feet. "I mean… I got a C at least…."

Eduard snorted. "Yeah, he'd kick you out for sure! The teacher is really strict about his French. He also teaches European history, which you seem to be taking. Oh my, you got Kirkland for Honors English, sorry about that…"

"What's wrong with Kirkland?"

"He's…. Grumpy to say the least."

"And the most?"

"A drunk."

Alfred couldn't suppress his disdain for such a person. After all, his parents had been killed by a drunk driver. It wasn't fair that now she had to be taught by one. Eduard noticed his change in mood.

"Alfred, are you okay?" He laid a hand on Alfred's arm, causing him to break from his reverie.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." There was the shrill noise of the bell, the cue for Alfred to leave. "It was nice meeting you, Eduard."

"Yes, it was. We have the same lunch, right after period 3. You can sit with my friends and me until you make some new ones."

"You make it sound like I'm just going to walk out the moment I make new friends…"

Eduard raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You're not?"

Alfred shook his head. "Of course not! You're a pretty cool dude, Eduard. It'd be awesome being friends with you. I'd better get to class, then."

"Are you really taking weight training?"

He paused, glancing back at Eduard. "I am."

"Be careful. I've seen the schedules of other students, and you have someone very scary in your class…"

"Like who?"

Eduard looked away, going pale. "His name's Ivan. Ivan Braginsky."

"Braginsky? What the story on him?"

Eduard shook his head. "I'll tell you later. But Braginsky is a seriously disturbed kid. Avoid him at all cost…"

Alfred cracked his knuckles. "He giving you problems, Eduard?"

"He… He can be cruel. And his sister, too, now that I think about it…" Eduard flinched slightly

"Really? Huh…"

"I don't even know how he got that pipe in…" Eduard was following his own train of thought.

"I'm liking the sound of this guy less and less…" Alfred muttered. "Look, Ed, I don't stand for that kind of crap. He tries anything, I'll be around to stop him."

"I don't think you understand-"

"I'm a hero! You don't have to worry about it!" With that, Alfred strode off to look for his locker.

Eduard shook his head at the new student's foolishness. Still, given Eduard general level of cowardice when it came to a kid like Braginsky, he couldn't help but admire Alfred. Maybe this school year would be different. Maybe, just maybe, this Jones kid could relieve the students from the constant fear of Ivan Braginsky. It was their last year in high school, and maybe Alfred Jones had come to make sure that they all made the most of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: Mr. Smith is an OC that I made up randomly.**

* * *

Chapter 2

Alfred managed to find the auto-shop without much difficulty. An industrialized room, with about 30 desks off to the side, Alfred took a seat in the back, hoping to avoid attention, but at the same time wanting to try to make friends.

Most of the students, around 15 or so, found seats near the front. All except for one. A senior with extremely pale hair and eyes that appeared red at first glance, but were actually a rich brown color, sat down next to Alfred. He slouched in his seat and rubbed his eyes.

"Mien gott, I wish Vati would let me drop out…" He muttered before pulling out a book which he began scribbling in.

"Er… Hello." Alfred said, nervously.

"Huh?" He glanced up. "Oh. Guten morgan. You're…" He frowned. "You're new here, aren't you?"

Alfred nodded. "Yeah. Just moved here."

The other kid's face split into a wide grin. "So the first person you've met is me and mine awesomeness!"

"Er…" Alfred didn't quite know what to say. This guy looked serious about his awesomeness, so Alfred decided to humor. Smiling back, he said, "Yeah, totally! Nice to meet you. I'm Alfred. Alfred F. Jones."

"Alfred." The other kid nodded. "Well… It's not as awesome as my name. Gilbert Beilschimdt. Here to be awesome and fuck shit up!" He held up his hand for a high-five. Shrugging, Alfred high-fived Gilbert back.

"All right then. Fucking shit up it is."

"Kesesese. Knew I could count you in! Just wait until you meet my friends." Nodding, Gilbert went back to writing in his book.

_Dear Diary,_

_I just met this totally awesome guy in my first period class! It's a new kid, named Jones. He looks like he won't take crap from anybody, so maybe he's just the kind of guy we need! That damn Russki's been getting on our nerves, and it's about time someone took him and his gang out._

"All right, class! Everyone take your seats!" The teacher came in and began writing on the chalkboard. "For those of you who don't know, I'm Mr. Smith. Yes, most common name in the country. Can anyone tell me why?"

"Mr. Smith, this isn't history class." Gilbert pointed out.

"I realize this, Beilschimdt and for gods' sakes, sit up straight." He waited for Gilbert to comply before speaking again. "So, anyone know?"

Alfred tentatively raised his hand. "Yes, Mr.-?"

"Jones, sir. Alfred F. Jones. The reason Smith is so common of a last name is because men would take the name of their profession or of their father's profession. There were blacksmiths and goldsmiths and locksmiths and silversmiths back when America was first growing as a nation. I'm guessing one of your ancestors was a smith of some sort, and the family name carried."

Mr. Smith nodded. "Good for you, kid. So-" He clapped his hands together. "We are going to be fixing cars and examining cars and going to cars show, possibly if the school allows, and eventually you will each team up with another person and together, build a car from scratch. In the meantime, though, you all need to get yourselves fitted for jumpsuits."

Mr. Smith went to a row of metal lockers and opened each one. "These are brand new, paid for pay the school. Well… Paid for by me. I had to sell some stuff to get the money, but the safety of you guys is important to me. Grab one you think will fit. Jones, come with me for a moment." Nonplussed, Alfred stood with the rest of the class and made his way to the front.

"Sir?" He asked, nervous.

"Out in the hall, come on." He led Alfred out of the classroom, shutting the door behind him. "Your brother is Matthew Williams, right?"

Alfred nodded. "Yes, sir, but what is this-"

"He sent me an email, explaining some very peculiar things."

"Yes, and?"

"Amelia, why are you doing this?"

The fact that Mr. Smith didn't use her alias didn't even faze her. "Because I'm scared." She told him. "I'm scared and doing this helps me feel less scared."

"Well, all right." He frowned. "I can't pretend to understand, but so long as you're good with cars, I'll keep it a secret. Just be careful, okay? This isn't the safest school."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You were talking to Beilscmidt, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You'll find out eventually."

"O…kay…"

"Right, now get you butt back inside, Mr. Jones."

He grinned, saluting Mr. Smith before heading back into the classroom. Inside, Gilbert held up a jumpsuit and tossed it to Alfred, which he deftly caught.

"So, what did Smith want, then?" He asked.

Alfred shrugged and stepped into the suit. He was pleased to discover that it fit just fine, and kept his curves well hidden. "Not much. He heard about my personal situation, and offered support."

"What sort of personal situation?" Gilbert asked quickly, moving closer to Alfred.

Startled, Alfred took a step back. "Just… stuff, okay?"

Gilbert backed off. "Right. Stuff. Sure." He nodded. "So, does it fit?"

Alfred zipped up the jumpsuit and fidgeted a bit, double checking. "Yeah, it does. Thanks, Gil."

A sad look cross Gilbert's face for a moment, and Alfred could've sworn he heard him sigh. It must've been a trick of the light because the next moment, he smiled again and clapped Alfred on the back. "All right, you got yourself and official jumpsuit for the Auto-Shop Class of 2013. Congrats."

Alfred laughed. "Again, thanks."

"Everyone, back to your seats." Mr. Smith called.

Alfred and Gilbert sat back down in the back. Mr. Smith began explaining that these suits belonged to them, so they should feel free to put their names somewhere on the suit so that they wouldn't be stolen. He spoke further, elaborating on the importance of knowing one's way around a car and what to do in the event of getting a shoddy mechanic.

"But I'm here to teach you how to not be that guy." He concluded, just as the bell rang. "See you guys tomorrow."

Alfred paused to take off his jumpsuit, folding it neatly and stowing it in his bag. Gilbert waited impatiently, mumbling under his breath.

"Sorry." Alfred said, joining him in the hallway. "Just didn't want to come out of shop looking like a total dork." He glanced at Gilbert, who had neglected to change.

"Are you saying I look like a dork, chump?"

"Well, you did just say 'chump'." Alfred replied, biting his lip in an effort to stop laughing.

"That was pretty not awesome of me." conceded Gilbert. "I have to up my awesome, now."

"How?" Before Gilbert could answer, he was knocked into by a taller kid with equally pale hair.

"Perhaps he could start by paying attention to where he is walking, da?" The kid smirked and was gone down the hallway before either of them could respond. After a moment of silence, Gilbert began walking again, eyes downcast.

"Who was that?" Alfred asked, hurrying to keep up.

"That was Ivan Braginsky. The biggest psycho jerk face in the world."

"That was Braginsky?"

"Yeah. Hey, wait. How do you know about him?"

"Er… An office worker told me about him."

"Oh…"

"Yep." Alfred stopped walking, "This is my locker." He said, pulling out a piece of paper and glancing at it before twirling in the combination.

"What's your next class?"

Alfred checked his schedule. "Advanced Placement English."

"Whoa. Some kind of genius, Al?"

He just shrugged and deposited his jumpsuit into the locker before slamming it shut. "I don't know. Maybe…"

"Let me see your schedule." Gilbert held out a hand for it. Alfred sighed and gave him the paper. "First period, Auto. Second, English. Then AP European History, lunch, Calculus, AP physics, and finally, weight training. That's… wow. You are a genius. Four AP classes?" Gilbert tutted and shook his head. "When are you going to have time for fun?"

Alfred snatched his schedule back. "Probably never."

Gilbert looked taken aback. "But…"

"With me in advanced classes, plus my job, plus making sure my brother gets his own job, I'm swamped. Sometimes, you have to grow up, and grow up fast." He shrugged. "I'll see you later, Gilbert."

He waved, and made his way to the language wing. Gilbert waved back, smiling faintly. Alfred was a good kid, he decided. Smart, and strong too, once he got through a semester of weight training.

"Take your seats, take your seats!" Alfred's English teacher was an angry looking ginger haired man. Anyone with eyes could clearly see a pack of cigarettes poking out of his shirt pocket. "I haven't got all day. As a matter of fact, I only have an hour with all of you whiney, horny teenagers, so I'd rather get this out of the way. I'm here to teacher you stuff about the English language which, contrary to popular and idiotic belief, did not originate in America."

"Would you shut up and take attendance already, Allistor?" The speaker was a messy blond with rather large eyebrows and bright green eyes. A chorus of 'Ohhs' went up around the room, Alfred included. The teacher narrowed his eyes and the student.

"Very well." The teacher took roll, glaring at the student the whole time, going through the list. He reached Alfred's name. "Jones…" Alfred waved. "Here." "…Kirkland…" The blond waved, smirking widely. "Here." He finished taking attendance and put the list of name back on his desk.

"Right. I'm Mr. Kirkland," The class looked from the teacher to the student who had so dared to mouth off on the first day. "And your first assignment is an essay. Detailed analysis on the history of the English language. Due next Monday." A collective groan went up from the class. "But in the meantime, here is your first vocabulary assignment-" He passed out some papers, "And a pretest to find out how much you all know, grammatically speaking. Get started on that. Mr. Jones!"

Alfred stashed the vocab in his folder and looked up. "Yes, Mr. Kirkland?"

"I need to speak to you." Mr. Kirkland gestured to the door.

Alfred sighed and got up. The kid with the busy eyebrows watched with faint interest.

Out in the hallway, Alfred leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. "Mr. Jones, I received an email this morning from a Mr. Matthew Willaims."

"Yeah, yeah. My real name's Amelia. I'm guessing by now that Matt sent emails to all of my teachers."

"To right he did, lass." Mr. Kirkland's hand reached toward his breast pocket for the cigarettes, but seemed to think better of it. "What kind of trick are you pulling?"

"I… I'm not sure. I'm not saying I was bullied, but…" Alfred shrugged. "It's just… easier this way."

"Aye." He rubbed the back of his head and sighed. "Right, well. Far be from me to tell your brother how to raise you."

"Speaking of brothers," Alfred said, choosing his words carefully, "is that blond kid your brother?"

Mr. Kirkland's face hardened. "Aye, and I've been taking care of the tyke for a long time now."

"I heard rumors that you drink."

"What I do with my life is my business, lass. Now get back to class."

"Fine." Alfred turned. "Don't call me lass again." He went back inside the classroom and took his seat.

"What did that wanker want with you?" The blond kid muttered.

"How is that any of your business?"

"Bastard's my brother."

"So?"

"So, I want to know what he wanted."

Alfred sighed and ran his finger through his hair. "Just some personal stuff."

"Fine, fine. I'm Arthur, by the way." He gave a faint smile and Alfred's heart skipped. Wow, he had a great smile.

"I'm Ame- er, Alfred. I'm Alfred."

"Hi, Ame-er-Alfred." Arthur responded, holding out his hand. Alfred shook it with a grin. "Welcome to our fair academy."

"Thanks. So, it must be kind of weird, being taught by your brother."

Arthur's smile faded. "I hate it. It's the first day and I hate it. At least before, I could get away from him at school, but now I have to put up with him here, too."

"It can't be that bad." Alfred reasoned. "It's just for one class period."

He sighed. "I guess you're right. Hey, maybe it won't be all bad. You seem like a nice kid."

Alfred laughed, causing Arthur to flinch. "Ah… sorry. I have a really loud laugh."

Arthur scowled a bit. "I can see that."

"I think you mean hear." Arthur paused, staring at Alfred before chuckling quietly.

"I guess you're right." He said, shrugging.

"Sure I'm right. It happens sometimes. So, I've got a couple of questions about this school."

"What kind of questions?"

"What's the school food like, who do you hang out with, which teachers are the meanest, what do all of you do for fun, which clubs are the best or the worst, and what's the story behind Ivan Braginksy?" He rattled off in one breath. So far, Alfred had only talked to two people, and they acted pretty similar when this Ivan Braginsky guy was brought up, and Alfred was determined to find out why.

"Er…." Arthur thought for a moment. "Food's all right, I hang out with Lukas, I'm not too sure on the teachers, but you already know my brother. I…" Here, Arthur paused. "I just read for fun. That's all. I don't do clubs, so I can't help you there. And all you need to know about Braginsky is to stay the hell away from him."

"Is he dangerous?"

"Why are you so interested? Are you gay?"

"What? Hell, no, I'm not gay. Just because I show interest in a guy doesn't mean I have the hots for him, geez."

"Well, sorry." Arthur held up his hand defensively. "Look… He's… Just scary, okay? That's all there is to it. He's a scary person."

"That's it? How is he scary?"

"Well, I heard a rumor that he's responsible for Toris' accident."

"I don't know who that is…"

"He's this kid that got hurt really badly last year. Apparently he has scars all up and down his back because of it."

"And it's Ivan Braginsky's fault?"

"No one knows. It was around April, and Toris was out for the rest of the year. He's back now, though. Apparently spent the summer recovering."

Before Alfred had a chance to respond, the bell rang. Alfred swung his bag over his shoulder, waved to Arthur and headed for his locker. After dumping his English textbook and notebook into the locker, he headed for the social studies wing.

"Welcome, welcome!" The AP European history was a handsome middle aged man with dark hair and a friendly smile. He patted each student on the back as he or she walked into class. "Come in, welcome to Advance Placement European history. We are going to be having so much fun. I cannot wait to start teaching such bright and shining students."

The 'bright and shining students' all took their seats, chatting amongst themselves. As was his wont, Alfred took a seat in the back of the classroom. A group of three boys walked in, two of them talking and laughing while the third followed in a seemingly grudging manner. They, too, headed for the back, the sulky one claiming a seat next to Alfred, the laughing ones sitting in front of them.

"And zen 'e goes 'Dammit, you pesky frog!' Oh, zat boy will be ze death of me!" The speaker was a young man with a bit of stubble on his chin, which somehow made him more attractive than he already seemed to be. He had silky blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. Alfred fingered his own hair self-consciously.

"Si, he probably will kill you if you are not careful, mi ameigo." The brown haired boy said.

"Er… are you guys talking to each other in different languages?"

"Yes, they are." The kid sitting next to him spoke. He looked vaguely familiar, but Alfred couldn't quite place it. "That bearded bastard is speaking French and his dumb friend is speaking Spanish."

"Oh, come now, Lovino. Smile!" The Spanish speaker grinned widely and reached back to ruffle Lovino's hair.

"Dammit, Antonio, I don't want to smile."

"Pay no mind to the grumpy Italian, mon ami." The blond said. "He 'as ever ze bad attitude."

"No one asked you, Francis."

"Wait, why do you all have accents?" Alfred said loudly, trying to stop them bickering. "You all grew up here, right?" They nodded. "So… why?"

"Zis is per'aps ze greatest part of Queens." Francis said. "Zere are so many different cultures 'ere, blending together."

"So, you're all… half-American and half something else? Or… you're families never renounced old traditions brought from overseas?"

"Non." Francis smiled. "Tu t'appelle comment, mon ami?"

"Er…" Alfred paused. He knew enough French… Francis asked him what his name was. "J-Je m'appelle Alfred. Alfred F. Jones."

"Ah! Parlez-vous francais?" Francis asked eagerly.

"Um…. No. Not really."

"Tres tragic!" He exclaimed, covering his face dramatically.

"Um…" Alfred whispered to Lovino. "Is he always like that?"

"Unfortunately."

"Francis, calm down, eh? It's not like he meant to hurt your feelings." Antonio patted his friend on the shoulder. "Still, it is not every day we meet a new friend."

"C'est vrai." Francis nodded, removing his hands and pretending to wipe a tear away. "So, Alfred-"

He was cut off by the teacher, who had called for quiet. "Buongiorno! I am Mr. Vargas and I will be teaching you all about European history! Let's get started with roll!" Again, same old story of a teacher going through roll. And again, "Alfred, please see me outside." The whole class stared as Alfred left to talk to Mr. Vargas.

"Brother, email, I'm a girl. Problem?"

Mr. Vargas chuckled. "Quite the contrary, dear. I admire your spirit. I also saw you talking to my oldest boy."

Amelia blinked, perplexed. "Who…?"

"My son, Lovino. He is… ill tempered. Perhaps being around you will cheer him up."

"Mr. Vargas, if you are trying to play match maker, I'm not interested in Lovino. I just met him."

He laughed heartily, clapping Amelia on the back. "Quite, quite. Well then, let us head back."

During this class period, Mr. Vargas actually began his lecture the moment he was sure every student had his or her notebook out. He explained how fractured Europe was in the beginning, old battles, and how ancient empires spread across Europe's vast lands. By the time the bell rang, Alfred's head was spinning with information.

"Do you have lunch next, Alfred?" Antonio asked. Without quite knowing how, Alfred was walking with Francis, Antonio, and Lovino.

"Huh?" Alfred double checked his now very worn schedule. "Yeah, I do."

"Excellent!" Francis said. "We can all eat together. Oh, and Gilbert and Arthur will be zere as well."

"Gilbert and Arthur? Cool!" Alfred grinned widely at the mention of his first two friends.

"You know them?" Lovino asked. "I'm sorry."

"What? Why? Gilbert and Arthur seem to be nice guys."

"They're dumb bastards."

"You like calling people dumb bastards a lot, huh? Why? Are you just a perpetually angry person incapable of a single happy or decent thought about someone?"

The entire group paused, their jaws dropped. Lovino recovered first, clearing his throat and turning a delicate pink. "I-I just get annoyed sometimes…"

"Mon Dieu…" Francis said. "Zat was incredible!"

"Si, you have been thoroughly told off by this new kid." Antonio gave Alfred a light punch on the shoulder. "You managed to stop Lovino's complaining. That is no small feat, compadre."

"S-Sorry, Lovino, I didn't mean to…"

"No, it's fine." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. You are right. I'll… try to hold my tongue from now on."

"No, I didn't mean that. Just… maybe put on a filter, huh?" Alfred flung his arm across Lovino's shoulders. "Maybe smile more and complain less?"

Lovino offered a tentative smile. Alfred and the others smiled back and walked into one of the scariest places a student can go on their first day: the cafeteria.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Note: I am going to say this now and only once: there may be some OOC moments (out of character). I am not entirely confident in my abilities as a writer, so I'm warning you now. Also, keep in mind that they are all in high school and are therefore teenagers. And most teenagers I know and read about (whether real or fictional) do stupid and dangerous things. There are going to be some fights in this story, too. Now, say what you want, but just because a character doesn't like fighting does NOT mean he/she is weak (Especially when it come to Hetalia). Please understand this, okay? Also, I've added some more characters. I hope I've done them justice, because Lord knows I try. Thank you all for the reviews and favorites and follows. I didn't expect to get the audience I've gotten, even if it is small. Just... Thanks. It's kind of surreal, people liking and wanting to read my stuff... It's like I actually have to try now. Not that I wasn't trying before, but I'll try extra hard now. And it's all thanks to you. Have I said thank you yet? **

* * *

As with most high schools, the cafeteria was packed with students, jockeying for a place in line. Alfred looked around curiously as Francis led them to a table. Arthur was there, and so were three people that Alfred hadn't met yet. One was pale-haired, with haunted blue eyes and a curious little curl on his head. He also appeared to be wearing a hair clip shaped like a cross; he was talking in low tones with Arthur, both of them poring over the same book. Another was spiky haired and mischievous looking, also with blue eyes; he was talking to the third stranger, who looked very scary. Two things they all had in common was their blond hair and their blue eyes. Alfred sat across from Arthur and gave him a cautious "Hi."

"Oh!" Arthur looked up. "Alfred, hello." The pale one looked up without any interest. Regardless, Arthur introduced them to each other. "Alfred, this is Lukas. Lukas, Alfred." Lukas nodded at him.

"And I'm Mathias!" The spiky haired one said, loudly. "And this is Berwald!" He added, slapping the scary one on the back. Berwald gave an awkward smile and Alfred sighed in relief. The smile made Berwald seem a lot less scary.

"And now the new kid knows everyone, great!" It was Gilbert, who slid into a seat next to Alfred.

"What took you so long to get 'ere?" Francis asked.

Gilbert tried to sound off-hand. "I got cornered by one of Braginsky's while I was taking a piss."

"Which one?" Antonio asked sharply.

"Feliks…" Gilbert muttered. "Stupid, supposedly innocent Feliks, who occasionally dresses like a girl."

Alfred coughed loudly in his hand and looked away.

"Did you fight back?" Mathias asked, sounding keen.

"Hell, no, I didn't fight back! He would've run back to Braginsky and I would've gotten my ass thoroughly handed to me. He didn't attack me… He just threatened me."

"We need to talk to Wang." Arthur said seriously.

"No!" Gilbert held up a hand. "No, we don't. I don't want adults prying their way into our business."

"What's going on?" Alfred asked, very concerned. "Why are you guys talking about fighting and stuff?"

The whole table paused before breaking out into uneasy laughter. Even Lukas offered a slight smile.

"Ze thing is… zere is a student," Francis explained, "Ivan Braginsky, and ever since freshman year, he 'as terrorized us. 'E could never get the upperclassmen to pay 'im much attention, but he has used intimidation tactics on us. So, those who were brave enough to get away, did. I ran into Gilbert while Anotnio and I were running from him-"

"And then, Braginsky came after me a few days later." Arthur chipped in. "I was running, and I ran into Lukas at the library. He led me to Mathias, who was friends with Gilbert in middle school."

"And I've been friends with Berwald and Lukas since elementary, right guys?" Mathias turned to them and they nodded. "Lukas' little brother would sometimes tag along with us, and Tino was the nicest guy. I don't know if he still is or not, though… He moved away before we started middle school."

"So you all came together to do… what, exactly?" Alfred was surprised by the way these situations worked out.

"They basically want to beat the shit out of him." Lovino said in a bored tone. "By the way, I grew up in the same apartment complex as Antonio."

"Whoa, now wait a minute." Alfred held up a hand. "Surely you guys can settle your differences without fighting."

"No, we can't." They all spoke in unison. After an awkward pause, they broke out in laughter.

"I think fighting is all he knows." Francis said.

"How much do you know about him?"

Another pause. Then Mathias spoke up. "Nothing. We don't know anything about this son of a bitch except that he's nuts."

"So… you guys are fighting about nothing because one guy is just a little bit intimidating?"

"You don't understand." Arthur said.

"And you won't." Antonio added.

"Not until you talk to him yourself." Gilbert concluded, folding his arms.

"Well, I have my last class of the day with him, so I guess I'll find out what his deal is then."

The conversation was dropped when a loud underclassman came up to their table.

"Fratello!" The younger student threw his arms around Lovino's neck.

"Ack! Get off, stupid!" Lovino pushed him off while the rest of the table watched with vague amusement.

"But fratello…." The boy whined slightly.

"Shut up, you're so dumb." Lovino glared at him for a moment before relaxing with a sigh. "What do you want, Feliciano?"

"Just to say hi." He said.

"Where's Ludwig and Kiku?" Gilbert asked.

Feliciano pointed vaguely. "Over there somewhere. The only person we could find was Roderich, and he was arguing with Vash, so we just sort of watched until Vash got really mad and left. Then we went and sat with him."

Gilbert started to stand before pulling pulled back down by Francis.

"Leave them alone, Gilbert."

Gilbert looked like he was about to argue, but nodded. "Yeah, right."

"So, what's with-" Alfred's query was interrupted by Felicano.

"Who are you?"

"Huh? Oh. Alfred. Alfred Jones. I just moved here."

"Oh, okay! Nice to meet you!" Feliciano waved, and turned to leave before being stopped by Lovino.

"Papa said that if you're hanging out with Ludwig and Kiku to be careful coming home tonight, got it?"

"Si, I got it!" He skipped, literally skipped back to the table he was at before.

Alfred stared after him, mouth agape. "That was…"

"Don't you dare laugh at him." Lovino threatened. "Or I swear I will find out where you live and tag the shit out of your front door."

"I wasn't going to laugh!" Alfred spoke honestly. "And, uh, tag?"

"Lovino's a graffiti artist." Antonio said. "Well, him and his brother. By 'tagging' walls with their art."

"Won't you get into trouble?"

"Like hell if I care. Queens is full of thugs and criminals. A couple of teenage taggers are hardly going to show up on their radar." Lovino folded his arms and looked away, glaring.

"O…k…" Alfred fell silent. Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis were talking; Arthur was looking through his book again with Lukas, and Mathias looked bored, and so did Berwald. Alfred just decided to watch his new friends as they all talked and joked with each other.

He had completely forgotten about his promise to eat lunch with Eduard.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Alfred was annoyed that he had to keep checking his schedule. What class did he have after lunch? Oh, yeah. Calculus. He groaned inwardly, having no desire to go to anything involving math. He wondered vaguely who would be in his class. He didn't think any of his new friends, because they didn't say anything.

Still, he smiled broadly, proud of himself for having made new friends; he was sure that Amelia wouldn't be faring this well. That thought actually killed the smile, though. What if someone other than the teachers found out? He shuddered at the thought. What if they stopped liking her? _No, _he thought, _don't think like that._

He entered the classroom with a little apprehension. His schedule didn't say who his teacher would be. He was therefore very surprised when it turned out to be the principal, Mr. Wang, whom he had met a few days before. It was only with his permission that Alfred had been allowed to enroll in the first place. After a moment, Alfred decided that Mr. Wang was the teacher because he couldn't find a new one such short notice.

Yao Wang was an impeccably dressed man with long hair tied back in a ponytail. It made Alfred wonder if Mr. Wang was just pretending to be a man, like he was. Then again, the suit that he was wearing was somewhat form-fitting, so maybe not. Maybe Mr. Wang just liked his hair long. Alfred had more important things to think about than Mr. Wang's fashion choices. Who knew what went on in the minds of Asian people, anyway? He slid into a seat in the back, next to a small, dark-haired kid with a somber face, and dark eyes.

"Hello." Alfred said pleasantly, trying to start a conversation. The boy jumped a little bit and turned to Alfred. After a moment, he nodded.

"Good afternoon." He spoke softly, and again, Alfred had to wonder how all of these people kept their accents. "You weren't here last year." A statement, not a question.

"Right." Alfred nodded. "I moved here at the beginning of summer."

"Everyone here live pretty close to each other." He looked at Alfred thoughtfully. "But I have not seen you on the streets."

"Oh, no." He held up a hand to forestall the boy. When he wasn't at work during the summer, he did walk the streets. As Amelia. She had explored everywhere she could, taking pictures and showing them to Matthew. She wouldn't say she was obsessed with photography, but she did like taking pictures of interesting things. "I was busy working."

"Of course."

"I'm Alfred, by the way." He held out his hand.

After a moment of hesitation, the boy nodded. "Kiku."

"All right class, settle down." Mr. Wang said, standing in front with a stack of papers. "Since it is the first day, I thought it would be best to find out what you all know, aru."

"So, it's a pretest?" One of the kids asked, hand in the air.

"Correct." He began passing the papers down the aisles. "You will have to entire class hour to work, aru. Good luck."

Alfred looked at the test, at a complete loss. He wasn't that good at math, and was wondering what had even possessed him to take such a hard class. He glanced over a Kiku and saw, with a shock, that he was already halfway done with the first page. Trying not to panic, he looked over the first problem. Slowly, tortuously, he began to write.

* * *

Alfred put his pencil down the moment the bell rang. Kiku had finished in the first 30 minutes, leaving everyone to stare at him slack-jawed as he took the pretest up to Mr. Wang. This caused Alfred to redouble his efforts, having always had a hidden competitive streak. He brought the pretest up to the front, books propped against his hip. He set it down and walked out without another word.

In the hallway, he checked his schedule yet again. AP Physics. Little better than calculus, really, he thought. Hard work, equations, numbers. He stopped by his locker again, barely paying attention. Though he had made friends, he was still sick of being at school. He could only hope that the rest of the year would pass a little more quickly.

So lost in thought was Alfred, that he bumped into someone while walking through the doorway of the Physics classroom.

"Oh, I'm sor-" he stopped when he noticed who had blocked his path. No. No way. That kid told him that the only class he had with this guy was weight training.

"It seems that Gilbert Beilschmidt is not the only one who does not look where he is walking." Ivan Braginsky said.

"Right…" Alfred responded carefully. "Sorry about that. Can you go inside now? You're holding up the rest of us, standing in the doorway like that." He jerked his thumb behind him, where there was in fact a group of students watching them curiously.

The taller boy gave a curt nod and entered the classroom. The rest filed behind, muttering under their breaths; clearly, they had been hoping for a fight. Well, he didn't want to disappoint them, but one of Matthew's stipulations was to not get into fights. Amelia had gotten into too much trouble in the past for fighting.

"Settle down, all of you." His physics teacher was a short woman with straw-colored hair. Her face was lined with soft wrinkles, and kindly looking; probably middle-aged, with that mother-ish air about her. She wrote her name on the white board behind her. "I'm Mrs. Snow. Welcome to Advanced Physics. I know you are all probably a bit nervous, as this class does come with its difficulties, but I will be here to help you, should you need it. Now, here are you books-" she gestured to a stack of textbooks on the front counter of the lab. "I'll call you up by rows, you will take a book, and then I will assign you seats." The class groaned. "Now, stop that." She said sharply. "It'll help me learn your names better. However, I'll be creating this seating chart randomly. I'll draw two names, and those two people will be lab partners. I will then seat you at the lab tables." She held up a bucket. "Write your names on a slip of paper and stick them in here when you come to get your books."

There was a flurry of movement as the class wrote their names down on strips of paper torn from notebooks. They shuffled to the front one at a time and dropped the paper in the bucket, grabbing their textbooks as they did so. Once they were all back in their temporary seats, Mrs. Snow drew the slips of paper out. One by one, people were paired up. As the number of available partners dwindled, Alfred grew more and more nervous. Eventually, there were four people left. He crossed his fingers underneath the table.

"Alfred Jones." Mrs. Snow looked up at him. "You're to be partners with Ivan Braginsky."

_"Nooo!" He said dramatically, throwing clinched fists in the air and falling to his knees._

"Alfred." Mrs. Snow said. "Alfred! Did you get that? You'll be with Ivan." Alfred shook his head; he had fallen into a sort of waking nightmare when Mrs. Snow announced who his partner was. He clenched his teeth and nodded. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. After all, the only things he knew about Ivan were what biased people told him. "Right, go on and partner up, then." She said, going to her computer, presumably to check attendance.

With a heavy heart, as though he were about to be executed, Alfred got up and went to sit next to Ivan.

"Hi." He said. "I'm Alfred."

Ivan nodded. "I know. You were with Beilschmidt this morning."

"Yeah, he's pretty cool."

Ivan gave a cold laugh. "Oh, malyutka. You are so misguided. He is a delinquent. They all are."

He raised an eyebrow at the laugh and the statement. "How would you know? They've all be pretty rocking awesome to me, so maybe you should just shut up."

Ivan checked to see that Mrs. Snow was occupied before grabbing Alfred by the collar of his shirt. "You will not speak to me like that." He growled, eyes flashing in anger.

"Last I checked, we live in America, not Russia, you communist bastard." Alfred responded with narrow eyes. "Freedom of speech and all. Now get outta my face, your breath stinks."

The pale-haired boy looked at him curiously for a moment, and then look him go. Alfred smoothed down the front of his shirt and glanced around. No one had notice their confrontation, he realized with relief. Which meant that he wasn't in trouble.

"All right, let's get started." Mrs. Snow turned on the projector and a slideshow popped up. For the next 45 or so minutes, Mrs. Snow explained the basics of Physics. Alfred was sure to take careful notes; he wanted to get a good grade in this class.

Five minutes before the bell was due to ring, Mrs. Snow called Alfred out of class.

"You've put yourself into an odd position, Mr. Jones." She said to him, arms folded. Though she was much shorter than him or indeed, any of her students, he could tell that Mrs. Snow could be intimidating when she wanted to be.

"I realize this." He responded, leaning back to slouch against the row of lockers behind him.

"Well, Mr. Wang and your brother don't seem to have a problem with it…" She said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "So us teachers will keep quiet. I don't think the parents will approve, though, so be careful."

"I know, Mrs. Snow." He said. "I won't tell any of the other students, not even my new friends. It's just for the school year."

"All right." The bell rang and Mrs. Snow turned back to her classroom. "Go along to class now, Alfred. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ma'am." He nodded and hurried off to his locker to drop his books off before heading to the gym.

Now, this class was the one he was most nervous for. He knew that the gym teacher might be a sexist jerk who wouldn't let him use the men's locker room, or indeed, participate at all. Still, it was only the first day, and in most schools, you didn't have to dress for gym on the first day. He hoped that today, this would be the case.

The bleachers were pulled out and Alfred sat up in the top row, looking down as all of the other students filed in. They were all male. Every single person was a male student. He bristled in anger. Why couldn't girls take weight training? He thought back to his first hour: that class had been all male as well. He wondered if this was school policy or district policy. From how high up did these rules come? Or was it just because no girl wanted to take classes such as weight training and Auto-shop? Maybe that was it.

"All right, gentlemen." The coach entered the gym and stood in front, arms folded. Alfred was surprised. The coach had long blond hair and pale blue eyes. A whistle hung round his neck and he looked at the assembled teenagers with a very stern face. "For those of you who don't know, I'm Coach Beilschmidt." Alfred gave a soft, "Oh.", before focusing better on the man. "My job is to whip all of you into shape before this school year is done. I will not tolerate in horsing around. This is serious business. Too many people do nothing but sit around all day drinking and watching TV. It's absurd." He paused to look over his students, eyes lingering on Alfred for a fraction of a second longer than anyone else. "You'll have until the end of the week to buy yourself a school gym uniform. If you can't afford it, please let me know. Mr. Jones!" He barked, causing Alfred to jump. "I'd like to see you out in the hall, please."

Alfred stood up and ignored the stares he was getting from his class mates. What if Coach Beilschmidt told him he couldn't take this class? What if was turned away, just because he was actually a she?

"You are going to have to find somewhere else to change into your gym uniform for the sake of decency." The coach looked down at Alfred with a very faint smile. Alfred exhaled in relief, glad that the coach did something as friendly as smiling.

"I don't suppose there's a gender-neutral bathroom I could use, is there?" He asked.

The coach thought for a moment. "You can go to the nurse's office." He said finally. "I am sure that she will allow you to change in the restroom there."

Alfred couldn't contain his excitement. He jumped up and whooped before giving Coach Beilschmidt a hug.

"Thank you so so much! Seriously, dude! You are awesome!"

"Please let go of me." He responded, slightly exasperated.

"Er, right, sorry…" He let go of him and stepped back. "But, in all honesty, sir. Thank you very much."

"Get your butt back in the gym, Jones."

Alfred nodded and went back into the gym. He was hoping for someone else that he knew to be in his class besides Ivan. He scanned the crowd and to his relief found that spikey-haired kid from lunch. What was his name? Oh, yeah… Mathias. Weird foreign names.

"Hey, Mathias!" Alfred walked over to him, raising a hand in greeting.

"Oh, hey, Newbie." He grinned at Alfred. "Ready to do some serious lifting?"

Alfred laughed. "Maybe not today."

He laughed as well, but it died quickly as he looked over Alfred's shoulder. "Can't believe we have to deal with this guy."

Alfred followed the other blonde's gaze. It was Ivan Braginsky, again. He didn't appear to be bothering anyone though. Alfred felt compelled to point this out.

"Well, so what?" Mathias said. "He may not be bothering us now, but he will."

"He's my lab partner in physics." Alfred told Mathias. His jaw dropped.

"What?!"

"Yeah, Mrs. Snow partnered us together."

"I'm sorry, man."

"He got all up in my face, too. You guys were right, dude's insane."

"Told ya."

"Yeah, well… I try not to judge based off of what people look like or what is said about them. Everyone has their own secrets."

"Heh. Yeah. I guess you're right." Mathias shrugged and ran a hand through his hair as if to check its spikiness. "Hey, you got a phone?"

"Yeah," said Alfred, surprised. "Why?"

"I want your number." He said. "Why else?"

"Er… but I've only known you for a day…"

"So? You're going to keep hanging out with us, right?"

"Us?"

"Me, Gilbert, everyone else from lunch?"

"Oh…. Um…" He shrugged. "I guess."

"Well, we need to have some way of contacting you."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "You make it sound like I'm joining a gang…"

"Psh. Not a 'gang' per se, but…"

His eyes widened behind his glasses. "Are you guys all in a gang?"

"No!" Mathias insisted, holding up his hands to forestall further accusations. "No. We're just a group of people with similar interests and we all like hanging out and goofing off."

Alfred relaxed. "You sure that's it?"

Mathias nodded. "I promise. Though, if Braginsky and his friends try to start shit, we'll stop them."

"I'm all about keeping peace, man." Alfred responded, and gave Mathias his cell number.

"Cool." Mathias entered the numbers in his own phone just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. "Finally!" Mathias jumped up and began striding toward the door. "So, you want to hang out tonight?"

"I can't." Alfred hurried to catch up with him. "I have to work."

Mathias looked almost as though he were pouting. "Ah, well. That's too bad."

"Sorry." They reached Alfred's locker. "And I have to change into uniform before I get there, so I really need to hurry."

"Okay." He clapped Alfred on the back and was soon just another back of the head in the hallway.

Alfred didn't have any homework on the first day, which surprised him. He figured that the teachers would unleash their wrath on the students the very first day. Oh, wait. Mr. Kirkland did assign that essay… Alfred grabbed his English stuff with a sigh. Might as well get a start on that; he slung his messenger bag over his should with a faint sigh.

He did good today, he decided. Very good. He made a lot of new friends. "You guys would be proud of me." He whispered as he pushed open the doors of the school and entered the brightly lit world outside.

* * *

**Author Note: Okay, so I caved a bit. I needed Amelia to have a female teacher to look up to, and since I have plans for a lot of the girls and I couldn't decide who would teach what, I decided to throw in another OC. But I don't really consider Mrs. Snow to be an OC because she is based off of a very real person who just so happens to teach, you guessed it, physics. Anyway, I don't know how often I'm going to update in the future. I usually shoot for once a week, but sometimes I'll get busy or not have internet. I have some more sensitive ideas planned but I'm reluctant to use them because I don't want to upset anyone. Anyway, read and review, and thank you all so much for investing thus far into this story.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: So, I got inspired and wrote this out like crazy in a notebook during school. Don't think I'll always be so quick to update, though, okay? Again, I can only hope that I did these characters justice. For those who left reviews of the last chapter, thank you very much. Also, big thanks to those who started following and favoriting this story. I hope you all remember that Amelia and Alfred are the same person, because I myself forget sometimes. ^_^ Anyway, enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter Five

After that first day, Amelia settled into an easy, double-life routine. She would wake up, fix her hair, bind her chest, and head off to school as Alfred. She would then come home, change into her uniform, and head to work as Amelia. Matthew, too, had managed to find a job; they both breathed a little easier now that they had two paychecks coming in.

However, her life seemed to slam into a wall as she received two very horrifying pieces of news in a very short amount of time.

She was eating breakfast with Matthew when the phone rang. He stood and hurried to pick up the receiver.

"Hello?" He paused, then covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "Amelia, it's your boss." She looked up from her plate, surprised. Matthew removed his hand and spoke. "No, this is her brother, Matthew. Oh?" Another pause, and he frowned slightly. "Well, maybe you should tell her that. Oh really?" Matthew face reddened; he looked angry. "No, I don't think so! You can be damn sure that she won't be coming back!" He stabbed the end button viciously.

Amelia jumped up from her chair. "What the hell, Mattie?!"

He ignored her for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling sharply.

"Apparently, you're fired."

At first, she didn't hear him, "You are so- Wait… What?"

"Like I said before, that was your boss. He called to lay you off."

"But…" She trailed off. What was she going to do now? She needed money. Or rather, she needed to save a portion of her money for college and give the rest to Matthew for bills.

She would not cry. Not over this. She would go and get ready for school and… there were the tears. They streamed down her face as her brother hurried over to wrap her in a tight embrace.

"Come on, Amy," he said, "guys don't cry in public."

"They do sometimes…" She muttered.

He chuckled. "True. But you don't want your new friends worrying about you."

She pulled away from him and nodded. "Right." She wiped her face and hurried to her room to get dressed.

"Atta girl!" He called.

"You mean 'boy'!" She called back before getting dressed and dashing into the early autumn morning.

It was mid-September, and people were starting to prepare for Halloween. Alfred pondered costume ideas while depositing his books into his locker. Should he be something that people expect? Or… He could go as Amelia, he thought, smirking. Did that make him a cross-dressing cross-dresser? Though, he wasn't even sure what was on his agenda for October 31st.

"What the fuck you just say to me?" Alfred turned; it sounded like Gilbert. Who was he shouting at?

"I said, you should, like, totally fuck off."

Alfred pushed through the ring of students that surrounded Gilbert and his opponent. He was facing off with a kid that had longish blond hair, green eyes, and a sarcastic smile.

"Oh yeah? At least I don't dress like a girl! Did you borrow that from Braginksy's psycho sister?"

"This is totally as close to a girl as you're going to get." The crowd gasped.

"Polish moron!"

"German Nazi!"

The crowd shrieked in unison as Gilbert tackled the other boy with a roar of rage. Though smaller, the 'Polish moron' fought back, scratching at Gilbert's face. Gilbert responded with a punch to the other kid's stomach, and several to the face. Alfred covered his mouth in horror and looked around for a teacher. Finding none, he gathered his courage and stepped out of the ring of spectators and seized Gilbert around the waist, barely conscious of someone else doing the same thing to the other blond.

"Gilbert, stop!"

"Feliks…" Alfred, keeping his arms locked firmly around the albino, looked over at the other pair. It was Ivan who had pulled Feliks from the fight; they were both glaring at Alfred and Gilbert, but Feliks, who was covered in blood, looked positively nightmarish.

"Let go of me, Ivan!" Feliks snarled, pushing him.

"Stay out of this, Al." said Gilbert, doing likewise to Alfred.

"Keep your German shepherd on his leash, Jones." Ivan spat out, retaining his glare.

This time it was Gilbert who did the holding as Alfred tried to go after the taller boy with rage burning in his eyes.

"Don't take his bait." Gilbert muttered, pushing Alfred behind him.

"What?! Blondie over there called you a Nazi! Are you saying you would rather be called a dog?"

"I'd rather you stay out of this!" He hissed back. Realizing that the action was over, the crowd dispersed and Gilbert stepped away from Alfred so that they were side by side.

"Well, then, it seems we are finished here." Ivan turned from them, keeping his hand on Feliks' shoulder as they walked away.

"Keep your Polish boy-toy away from the vodka, Ruskii!" Alfred shouted as a last insult before leading Gilbert to the nurse's office.

"Fighting again, Gilbert?" Rather than the school nurse, Coach Beilschmidt was in the office, sitting at the desk and looking through some paperwork.

"I'm sorry, Vati." He muttered, head hung in shame.

"Did you win?"

"Honestly, sir? It was a draw." Alfred said.

Coach Beilschmidt shook his head. "Son, you can't keep doing this to yourself. You'll get expelled." He began mopping up Gilbert's face with a damp paper-towel.

"You'd turn me in?" he asked, eyes wide.

"Of course not, I'm your father." He smiled briefly before becoming serious again. "But Wang isn't stupid, Gilbert. He knows about this little rivalry you have with Ivan Braginsky and his friends."

"I don't…" Alfred muttered. That was the problem with coming to a new place so late in your school career: you didn't know anything about the old fights and scores to settle and who was friends with who before they turned into backstabbing assholes.

Coach Beilschmidt looked at him. "I'd like to keep it that way."

Gilbert nodded fervently. "Seriously. The less you know, the better."

Alfred opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut with a sigh. He knew it was useless to argue; they clearly knew something that he didn't, but Alfred was determined to find out what.

"Here." Coach Beilschmidt handed them each a slip of paper. "Now get to class."

They nodded in unison, clutching their passes in their hands, before hurrying off to the school garage.

* * *

Fifth period came and Alfred felt a sense of dread. He hoped that Ivan wouldn't try to do anything in retaliation for this morning. It seemed like the kind of thing that he would do; though, he didn't seem to notice as Alfred as he took his seat next to the paler boy.

Without looking over, Ivan reached out and pulled Alfred's chair out from underneath him.

"AH!" Alfred fell to the floor with an almighty crash, bruising his tailbone. He lay there for a moment, practically steaming in anger, before getting gingerly to his feet and rubbing his backside. He thrust his fist in the air in an effort to get the teacher's attention.

"Mrs. Snow-"

"Class, as you all know-"

"Mrs. Snow." He tried again.

"Just a moment, Alfred. Now as you all know, the district science fair is coming up. As this is an advanced course, participation is required." The students all nodded; Alfred, however, was dumb-struck. Science fair meant science project which meant more work which meant-

"-you will, of course, have to spend more time on this outside of school."

"Mrs. Snow, I don't think that's-"

"Alfred, if you interrupt me one more, I'll have to send you to the principal."

He sighed. "Yes, ma'am."

"So, start brainstorming. I want your topics before the end of the hour. And remember, it doesn't have to be a physics project."

There was an outbreak of low talking as people began deciding what topics they wanted to pursue.

"The causes of nuclear meltdowns and the effect inordinate amounts of radiation has on humans."

Alfred glanced over at Ivan. "What?"

"Our project is going to be about nuclear power."

"Decided that on your own, did you?" He said, nostrils flaring in anger.

"Indeed. It ties into my roots quite nicely, don't you think?"

"You can't just pick our topic without consulting me!"

He raised a brow. "I believe I just did. Unless your feeble brain has come up with a better idea-"

"As a matter of fact, it has."

"Well, then, let us hear it."

"Light pollution." Ivan scoffed. "Hey! It's important. Some people live their entire lives in this stupid city and the only star they see is the sun."

"You wish to make this a moral issue?"

"No, I just want to do my project on something I care about and am interested in."

"It is pointless. Even if you are interested in such things, it will probably result in a poor grade, which I will not tolerate."

"You know what? Just because you've never been out of this rat hole-"

"You know nothing." He said in a low voice, violet eyes flashing.

"Neither do you." Alfred shot back.

"Problem here?"

"Yes."

"No."

They had spoken at the same time. Mrs. Snow glanced over at Ivan before turning to Alfred, and expectant look on her face.

"Ivan and I are having a slight disagreement about what to do for the fair." Alfred said in a rush.

"What are your ideas?"

"The effects of radiation after a nuclear meltdown." Ivan cut in.

"-and light pollution." Alfred added through gritted teeth.

Mrs. Snow thought for a moment. "I'm sorry, Ivan." Alfred exhaled in relief, smirking slightly. "But I already have another group doing something nuclear. I'll mark you guys down for light pollution."

"But-"

"Good luck." She scribbled something on her clipboard before wandering off to help sort out some other group.

"So." Alfred said lightly. "Light pollution. Big problem here in Queens."

Ivan scowled. Alfred grinned at him. "And here I was, thinking it was a bad day."

Though he had lost his job and was going to be forced to spend extra time with Ivan, getting to do what he wanted for the science fair was just enough of a victory to lift his spirits.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I can't write fight scenes to save my life, so this chapter kind of sucks**

* * *

Chapter Six

"Lovi, if we're caught, we're going to be in a hellavu lot of trouble…" Antonio whispered.

"No shit." Arthur added, tugging at the collar of his black shirt.

"Well, no one said you bastards had to come with me!" Lovino grumbled, touching up a design he was creating on the side of a brick building.

"You needed ze back up." Francis said, rubbing his arms. It was about mid-October, and they were all out past curfew. Since losing her job, Amelia had been dressing like Alfred and going out with her new friends more.

"Yeah, because this is exactly how I want to spend my Friday night." Alfred rolled his eyes and exhaled, watching his breath mist the air.

"Better than watching Feli and West make out…" Gilbert muttered.

"You don't even know if they're, you know, like that." Arthur responded.

"Yeah, don't you think you should ask Ludwig about it before making accusations?" Alfred blew oh his hands and rubbed them together. "It's fucking freezing out here, Lovino. When are you going to be done?"

"I'll be done when I decide to be done, idiota." For the most part, Lovino had ignored them, focusing on his tagging, but after about 30 minutes, they all wanted to head back to Alfred's, where he told them that Matthew would be waiting with hot chocolate.

"Well, excuse me." He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

"So, where are Mathias and the rest?" Gilbert asked.

"Mathias, Lukas, and Berwald are all hanging out at Mathias' place."

"Why the hell aren't they here freezing their asses off too?"

"Because zey are not as stupid as us." Said Francis, lighting a cigarette.

"Those things will kill you, you know." Antonio said, sitting down with his back against the wall.

"So will the pollution and car wrecks and plane wrecks and subway crashes and God knows what else." Alfred crouched down next to the Frenchman.

"Kid makes a fair point." Arthur said.

"I'm hardly a kid!" Alfred growled. "Just because I don't turn 18 until July does NOT make me a kid!"

"Shut up!" Lovino snapped, putting one can of spray paint back in his bag and pulling out another. "I don't know if you idiots realize this, but we are right fucking next to Braginsky's place."

Alfred and Francis were immediately on their feet. "Why the hell," Arthur grabbed Lovino by the scruff of his neck and pushed him against the unpainted wall, "are we in Ivan fucking Braginsky's neighborhood?"

"I wanted to mess with the rat bastard, all right?"

"You better not 'ave used our names, Lovino." Francis warned.

Alfred turned and was ready to flee. "Forget the fucking names, we need to get out of here before-"

"Why am I not surprised?" The group turned to see Ivan Braginsky and four others with him. "You all are really quite petty. Defacing my apartment building? Tsk tsk."

"Matthew's going to kill me…" Alfred muttered.

"Oh, you're here, little Alfred? The newbie. The rookie. I take it you haven't met my friends yet?" Ivan smiled pleasantly, as if they were all sitting around a café and had just casually bumped into each. "Although, you should know Feliks." The blond-haired Feliks scowled. "And this is Toris." A young man with longest brown hair gave a timid nod. "Tino." Another blond with a seemingly friendly face. "And Eduard." At that last name, everything clicked. Feliks was the one who fought with Gilbert that day; Toris was the one who got injured last spring, before Alfred arrived; Tino was mentioned by Mathias; and Eduard… Alfred had met Eduard on his first day. Alfred had seen these people before, in the hallways, but no one ever bothered to say anything.

"Look, we were just leaving." Francis said, stubbing out his cigarette. "We don't want any trouble."

"You started trouble when you, like, stepped out of your territory." Feliks snapped.

"Look, it's just sidewalk and it's just a building." Arthur said. "Get over it."

Ivan, who hands had been behind his back, suddenly grinned wickedly, moving forward to reveal a metal faucet pipe he had been carrying. "Oh, I don't think so. We will teach you a thorough lesson. Try getting over that."

"You want some, then?" Lovino shouted, arming himself with paint. "Come and get it!"

"Aw, shit, I told Vati I wouldn't fight…" But there was a smirk on Gilbert's face as he popped his knuckles menacingly.

"As long as my 'air does not get too messy in zis brawl." Francis shrugged, causally assuming a fighting stance.

"'Course that's what you're worried about, stupid Frog." Arthur spat, reaching in his pocket to pull out a pair of leather gloves, which were clearly used for fighting.

"I would really advise against any type of fighting…" Eduard said quietly, adjusting his glasses.

"Shut up, Eduard." Ivan growled.

"Are you just going to stand there, then?" Antonio asked. "Or are you going to fight us?"

Ivan cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders back; the rest of his gang assumed position reluctantly. They clearly weren't looking for a fight.

"Go for the little ones." Ivan muttered to them. They glanced at each other and shrugged.

"Whatever you say, boss." Tino responded.

Antonio and Arthur pushed Alfred and Lovino back, standing in front of them like guards.

"Get ready to run, you two." Francis told them.

"Hell no, dumb bastard!" Lovino growled. "We're fighting too."

"Y-Yeah…" Alfred nodded, face white.

A split second of pause, then both group ran at each other, yelling furiously. There were muffled thuds as punches were thrown. It seemed as though Lovino actually did run away. _What a coward, _Alfred thought, ducking a blow; whether it be from friend or foe, he wasn't sure. It looked like Eduard had also fled, leaving Ivan, Toris, and Feliks against Francis, Gilbert, Antonio, Arthur, and Alfred. There was so much noise; Alfred couldn't tell who was who in the darkness either. Eventually, Francis and Antonio dashed off as well, leaving it three on three, Alfred somehow ending up across from Ivan.

"How unwise to leave you to me." Ivan said, with a twisted smile.

"I'm not scared of you." Alfred said resolutely. Ivan was sporting a black eye and had managed to keep a hold of his pipe. He was very frightening indeed, but Alfred refused to succumb to fear.

"Also unwise." And then he bore down on Alfred with all his might. Alfred closed his eyes and held up his arm to block the pipe. Succeeding in that endeavor, he tackled Ivan, knocking the pipe out of the other's hand. Ivan struggled to find some grip on his opponent, but Alfred, straddling him, gripped tightly with his knees and punched Ivan in the jaw. Infuriated, Ivan broke free and soon had Alfred pinned down. _Shit, shit, shit. He's going to find out! Fuck! I'm done for! _

"Hey! Stop that noise, or I'm calling the police!" Came a cry from an upper story window.

"Shit!" Arthur yelled, detangling himself from Feliks.

"Shit is right!" Gilbert yelled, pushing Toris off of him. "We'll get you guys!" Gilbert called, turning to run, Arthur right behind.

Ivan seemed reluctant to let Alfred up, but he eventually stood, wiping blood off of his face. "You got very lucky tonight, little Jones." He said to Alfred, beckoning to Toris and Feliks to go with him. They dusted themselves off and went to stand by Ivan.

"Al, come on!" Arthur had run back to see what was holding him up.

"I'll be right there." He muttered, lips barely moving. Arthur paused, then nodded and left, catching up with Gilbert. "Listen," Alfred said, hands on his hips, "I don't know what the hell you guys are always trying to kill each other for, but leave me the fuck out of it. I just want to get an education, get a degree, and go back to my town to reopen my dad's shop. I don't want to get involved in fucking turfs wars, commie. You got that?"

Ivan's eyes narrowed at the 'commie' comment. "Whatever you wish." He said stiffly. "But know that so long as you associate yourself with those men, we are enemies."

"Ironic, given that we have to work together on a god damned science project together." Alfred turned. "And they aren't men. None of you are."

He ignored Ivan's call for him to come back and explain himself and joined Gilbert and Arthur, both of whom had apparently waited for him. They looked Alfred up and down, as if checking for additional injury.

"I'm _fine." _He insisted. "But Matthew's going to kill me." They began walking, heading back toward where Alfred had told them he lived. They were soon rejoined by Francis, Antonio, and Lovino.

"Hey, thanks for the back up there, Francis. Toni." Gilbert said harshly, glaring. "I expected Lovi to back out, but come on you guys!"

"I was worried about my 'air and face!" Francis said crossly, folding his arms.

"I went to check on Lovino." Antonio mumbled.

"I hate all of you." Lovino grumbled. "But at least you dumb asses didn't mess up my art."

"As if we would do that." Francis scoffed.

They walked on in silence, nursing their injuries. "Come on, we need to move faster." Alfred muttered. "It's cold and Matthew's going to be furious with me."

"Can't we all just crash at your place, Alfred?" Arthur asked him. Alfred froze.

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Come on, mon ami, why not?" Francis looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

The group reached the apartment building and Alfred ignored the question, leading them up the stairs to his fifth floor apartment. He pulled out his key and unlocked the door.

"Ame-"

Alfred shook his head furiously, opening the door wider to show Matthew that they weren't alone. Matt raised an eyebrow, but began speaking again. "Alfred Jones, where the hell have you been?"

"Er… Out." He mumbled. "With these guys… Gilbert, Francis, Antonio, Arthur, Lovino." He pointed to each in turn. "This is my brother, Matthew."

"You've been fighting." They all sighed and nodded. "Well, come inside and I'll see what I can do to clean you guys up."

A chorus of 'thank yous' went up and they all trooped in, pulling off their hats, gloves, scarves and coats; they all went into the small living area and sat on what sparse furniture the two siblings had managed to bring with them. Matthew came around with a bowl of warm water and took turns checking them for injuries. Lovino was fine; Francis had a bloody nose and Antonio got a black eye (Matthew handed the Spaniard a bag of ice wrapped in a towel); Arthur's lip was busted; Gilbert's face was all black and blue and bloody. Alfred, though, seemed to have received the worst of it. Matthew had taken him to the kitchen, away from prying eyes and looked at him up and down.

"Amelia, I need to see your stomach." He told her sternly.

She sighed, but nodded and lifted her shirt. "Good thing you've had all that medical training."

"I worked in an old folks' home, Amelia. It's no big deal." He ran his fingers gently across her stomached and she winced. "Yep, bruised ribs."

"Can they please stay tonight?" She whispered.

Matthew sighed. "I suppose so. But you are sleeping in your room. I don't want you out there with them."

"We're, um, all going to have to borrow some pajamas…" she muttered.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll see what I can scrounge up."

Amelia kissed her brother on the cheek. "Thanks, Mattie!" She hurried back to the living room. "Okay, so, Matt says you guys can stay."

"But only for tonight." He said sternly, coming in with his arms full of pajama pants. "Here." He dropped them on the floor unceremoniously. "I'm not sure what sizes these are because they were, um, Alfred's." He muttered, avoiding Amelia's eye.

"Who?" Arthur asked, looking through the pile.

"My dad." Amelia said, deepening her voice to become Alfred. "I was named after him."

The group got really quiet, unsure of how to respond. "I'm going to go to bed…" she muttered, leaving the room and slamming her door shut.

"Er, Matthew, right?" Arthur said, looking over at him. "What happened to your parents?"

Matthew sighed, sitting down in a chair. "You are Am-Alfred's friends. When he's ready to tell you, he will."

They all glanced at each other before hurriedly finding sizes that fit and putting them on. Again, the group thanked Matthew and he went off to his own room. Soon, they were all sprawled out across the living room, Lovino on the couch, Antonio, Gilbert and Francis on the floor, and Arthur curled up in a chair.

* * *

Long after everyone was asleep, Arthur was still wide awake. He supposed it was the un-comfortableness of the chair, but he chalked it up to late night over-thinking. He stood up and stretched, glancing at Alfred's door curiously. He wondered what the other boy's room looked like. Making sure that he didn't step on any one, Arthur made his way across the apartment and stood before Alfred's door. He pushed it opened and looked inside; what he saw made him pause, jaw dropping. For in that bed was most definitely _not _Alfred, but a girl. A girl with short hair the exact same color as Alfred's. A girl with a pair of glasses perched on her bedside table, _exactly like Alfred's._

Hearing him enter, she awoke, rubbing her eyes. When she saw him there, she stared at him with the same horrified shock that he was staring at her with. She bolted out of bed and slammed the door shut, covering Arthur's mouth with her hand.

"Not a word, not a motherfucking word, or I'll kill you I swear." She whispered furiously.

Green eyes wide in fright, he nodded. She removed her hand. "A-Alfred?" He whispered.

"Who do you think?" She responded.

Nothing could have prepared either one of them for this.

* * *

**Author's Note: So, I was planning on having Ivan be the first to find out, but you know, I was getting kind of bored and the plot got a mind of its own. So now, good old Arthur's knows Alfred's, or rather, Amelia's secret. Also, sorry about the fighting. I know it sucks**.

**As always, reviews are appreciated. **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Sitting across from Amelia on her bed, Arthur leaned in to examine her face. "Prove that you're Alfred."

Amelia frowned and put her glasses on. "Is this enough proof?" She asked, smoothing her hair down and speaking in a low voice-her 'Alfred' voice.

Arthur started, doing a double-take. After a moment he relaxed and nodded. "Okay, so Amelia equals Alfred and Alfred equals Amelia."

She shrugged. "Pretty much."

"And…" his eyes flicked to her chest. She turned bright red and crossed her arms to better cover herself.

"Ohmigod, you are such a perv!"

His eyes widened and he nearly fell off the bed. "I am so sorry, Amelia." He buried his face in his hands. "That bloody Frog. I seem to be taking after him."

"Are you two related?" She asked, genuinely curious.

He gave a short, hollow laugh. "Hell, no. But we did grow up together, and Mrs. Bonnefoy dotes on me a bit, the dear woman."

"What about your mother?"

Arthur looked down, gripping the edge of one of Amelia's blankets until his knuckles were white. "She's… sick."

"Oh."

Arthur nodded. In New York 'sick' meant a lot of things, but Amelia wasn't aware of that, having been raised outside the city. Arthur meant that she was probably a druggie, an alcoholic, a prostitute, or just plain missing. Those kinds of things happened. Arthur didn't know simply because his brother wouldn't tell him.

"And your dad?" Arthur brightened visibly.

"Oh, he's still around!" He said. "Yep. Allistor, Peter, and I live with him!"

"Peter?" Amelia tilted her head.

"My little brother." Arthur explained. "We fight a lot, Peter and I. But then again, I also fight with Allistor."

"I heard he has a drinking problem."

Arthur sighed. "Yeah, just a bit."

Amelia quieted, tracing patterns in her bed sheets. "I hate people like that…"

Arthur glanced at her, surprised. "Yeah? Why?"

She shook her head. Arthur placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Amelia." He said softly. "You can tell me. It's okay."

"It's hard to talk about." She whispered. "I was there when it happened, so…"

"Oh, god." He muttered, drawing her in for a hug. He was as surprised by this as she was. Arthur didn't hug. He didn't like physical contact at all. He preferred having personal space. But Amelia looked so sad, so different from the Alfred he knew, but at the same time with his exact face… he could tell that she wasn't as strong as she acted sometimes. "I'm sorry, Amelia. Really sorry."

She remained stiff, as unused to the contact as he was. When someone hugged you, you hugged back, right? After a long moment, she hugged him back, relaxing into his embrace. "Thank you." She muttered. "I guess I misjudged you…"

"How so?" He asked, letting go to look at her.

"I just thought you were a cranky jerk who swore too much."

Arthur gave a lighthearted laugh. "Oh, trust me, love, I'm like that most of the time, but I can be serious when I need to be."

"Good to know." She sat up a little straighter. "Because you can't tell anyone about this." She gestured to herself. "About me actually being a girl."

He nodded. "But… why are you doing this, Amelia?"

She sighed. "My parents owned an auto-shop. I know it's the 21st century, but I guess I'm not confident as a female grease-monkey. So, I became a boy. Not to mention, I always noticed that boys don't have it as bad as girls. The girls in my town were really nasty to me, even after the accident."

"That's…" He shook his head. "Bloody awful of them, I'll say."

She giggled quietly. "Well, I'm not there anymore. I'm here. I've got to work hard and make the most of it, right? Maybe I'll be a girl for Halloween."

Arthur grinned. "That's brilliant!"

"What are you going to be?"

"I was thinking a necromancer or a vampire."

"So, you're going for the old-fashioned Halloween. Before zombies and stuff like that, right?"

He nodded. "I'm dead either way." He laughed at his own joke while Amelia looked at him blankly. "See, because a necromancer-"

"I get it. It just wasn't funny."

He stuck his tongue out at her and she did the same. They remained like that before they both started laughing, covering their mouths to muffle the sound. After they calmed, Amelia sighed. "I suppose we should go to sleep."

Arthur nodded. "Yeah. Sleep's good."

She didn't want him to go, she realized as he stood and strode over the door. She really enjoyed having him around when she was being herself. She got up and grabbed his arm. "You don't have to go back out there." She said quietly. He glanced back at her, surprised.

"But… it's rather indecent, don't you think?"

"I'm a boy, remember?"

Arthur grinned. "That's true."

"But only if you promise not to try anything." She added sternly.

"Hey, you're the one who offered to let me stay in here." He argued.

"Yes, well." She fidgeted uncomfortably, twisting the hem of her nightshirt.

"Amelia."

"Hmm?"

"You're blushing."

She turned a brighter shade of red. "S-Shut up!" She took a deep breath. "I offered because…" She sighed. "I'm lonely."

He blushed too. "Amelia, do you…"

"Huh?" She blinked, confused. Then she realized what he was asking. "No! God, no! Um… Look, Kirkland-" it made her feel less attached to him when she called him by his surname. "I like you. But not like that."

He nodded. "Right. Not like that." He understood, and he figured he could suppress his emotions enough that she wouldn't find out. After all, he'd technically only just met her. The real her.

"All right, then, let's go to bed." She climbed onto her bed and scooted over so that she was pressed against the wall. Once comfortable, she patted the space next to her. "Come on, Arthur. I don't bite."

He came over and stood by the bed, muttering something about "…still think it's indecent…" Amelia ignored him and grabbed his arm, pulling him onto the bed. "Shut up." She murmured. He nodded, blushing, and got under the covers.

"Good night, Artie…" She mumbled.

"Good night, Amy."

She smiled faintly and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost immediately. Arthur watched her for a while before carefully, carefully placing his arms around her shoulders. She rolled over, snuggling against him with a sigh. He blushed and stroked her hair. Why didn't he notice before how soft it was? Or how nice she smelled? He pondered these thoughts as he too, slowly fell asleep, his arms around Amelia and her head tucked beneath his chin.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know, I know. Burn USUK in hell. JK, it's actually one of my favorite ships. Though Arthur doesn't get her in the end, I promise he'll find someone too. Just got to figure out who... I'm toying with a few ideas, though, so don't worry. Anyway, I like the idea of Amelia and Arthur being more than just friends, but not quite lovers. I wanted to focus on that in this chapter, so I did. Even if you don't ship these two romantically, they make one heck of a BrOTP. I would've made this chapter longer, but I've been really busy and you were all clamoring for an update THE DAY I POSTED THE LAST CHAPTER OH MY WORD PLEASE BE PATIENT. But I am sorry that this chapter's a bit short. I'll do my best to make the next one longer.**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Whenever it's italicized, they are either speaking in Russian or it is a memory of Ivan's.**

* * *

Chapter Eight

Meanwhile, across town, Ivan walked home, fast-paced and irrationally angry at the world. Was it the world? Or perhaps it was a certain American whose mere face drove Ivan up a wall. That Alfred Jones, self-proclaimed hero of the school. What a load of crap that was.

"I-Ivan?" He glanced behind him; it was Toris. "You weren't beaten, you know. It was a draw…"

Ah, typical Toris to try to make him feel better. Ivan tried to smile, but with the blood on his face, it really did more harm than good. The smile was cold and did not reach his dark, violet eyes. "You're right." He responded softly. "But next time, I'll make sure to win."

Toris nodded. Feliks, who had been acting rather sulky, simply muttered, "I'll kill that German…"

Tino rolled his eyes and bade them goo night, heading for his apartment building. Toris and Feliks were soon gone as well, each to their own separate dwellings. Ivan sighed and trudged up the 20 stories that led to his own apartment that he shared with his two sisters.

"Vanya!" Katyusha scrambled up from her seat in a battered arm chair to greet Ivan. He raised a hand and stooped to remove his shoes before pulling off his coat and hanging it on a rack that was falling to pieces. "_Oh my goodness, Ivan, what happened?!" _His older sister had a look of absolute horror on her face as she took in the blood on his face and also on his ever-present scarf.

"_I am thinking that my scarf needs washing…" _He muttered, pulling it off and handing it to her.

"_Ivan, were you fighting again?" _She asked, gripping the scarf so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

He shrugged and Katyusha started to tear up. "_You know they would not wish to hear about their only son get into fights." _She told him.

Ivan's eyes flashed in anger. "_It does not matter what they wish or do not wish. They are dead._"

"_You are lucky that Natalya is asleep or else she would be very upset."_

"_Yes, well, there is not much she can do since you confiscated her knives."_

Katyusha sighed and folded Ivan's scarf. "_I suppose you want me to clean your wounds."_

He nodded and went to sit at the kitchen table. Katyusha set his scarf aside and went to get the first aid kit. Ivan watched as she bustled about, eyes taking in the details of their cramped living space. They had two rooms, one shared by Katyusha and Natalya and another used by Ivan. The living room had a sagging couch and the battered chair. On one wall was an old photograph of a man and a woman smiling happily and holding a young girl and a baby boy. Ivan focused on this particular section of wall until Katyusha came back.

"_Now this will sting a bit, Ivan…" _she said, dabbing at his face with disinfectant. He hissed and tried pulling away, but Katyusha held his arm in a surprisingly strong grip. "_Stop fussing and take it like a man. If you are stupid enough to get into fights, then you will pay the consequences." _After she was done with the cleaning, she went to freezer and peered inside. She sighed softly. "_I'm sorry, Ivan. We're out of ice…" _Ice was a precious commodity, as with most things in their household. If it wasn't essential, it wasn't purchased.

"_It is fine." _He muttered. "_I will be fine…"_

Katyusha looked at her brother in some concern and wished briefly that their parents would come back and lift all of this responsibility from her shoulders. Then she shook her head and gave him some medicine that would, hopefully, ease the pain and swelling. Ivan nodded his thanks and took the pill with bitter water from the sink. Grimacing, he made his way to his bedroom, wishing his sister a good night.

"I will be fine…" He muttered again, closing his door softly and crossing the room in two strides to flop onto his bed. He would be fine. After all, he barely remembered his parents, so it didn't matter what they 'wished' or whatever nonsense Katyusha spouted when she was trying to lecture him. He didn't remember, no, not at all…

* * *

_It was dark and he was running, running, running, as fast as his four year-old legs would carry him. Gunshots echoed across the snowy landscape and he could hear his mother panting for breath, one hand on her swollen belly, the other clutching the hand of a young girl: Katyusha._

"_Vladimir!" She called out as she stumbled. His father turned to see his wife fall in the snow._

"_Anya!" He dashed to her side and helped her up. "Hurry now, they will catch us!"_

"_I am sorry, Vladimir…" She panted, standing again. She grabbed Katyusha's little hand and Vladimir scooped Ivan up in his arms; the poor boy just couldn't run fast enough._

"_Mama, papa, where are we going?" Katyusha asked, breathless. Her eyes were wide with fear as she heard another gun shot. Ivan was confused. Why did his strong, brave sister look so scared? And his courageous, upright father and mother? They were just going on an adventure, right? This was just a game. Wasn't it?_

_Vladimir Braginsky made sure that his wife and daughter were running ahead of him. If anyone should get out of this alive, it should be her, their daughter, and the unborn child. If only Anya were strong enough to carry Ivan as well… He shook his head. No. They would all get out alive. They had too. After all, he had important documents to give to the head of the American CIA. This would show them that he was to be trusted and that he would have continued his work as a spy, if only he hadn't been caught! He still wasn't sure how that happened, and now his family was in danger… _

_Shots rang out a final time and Vladimir collapsed, dropping his only son onto the ground. Somehow, Ivan had managed to do some sort of a roll and landed, relatively unhurt._

"_Vladimir!" Anya Braginsky screamed, looking back._

"_Mama, come!" Katyusha kept her eyes forward, tugging on her mother's hand._

_Vladimir had warned her that this would happen. That he might die… Still, Anya ran back and undid her husband's coat. She looked into his face as she pulled the documents out of the pockets lining the insides. "Anya…" He gasped. She leaned in close. "…stay safe… I lo…." His eyes fluttered closed. Anya suppressed a sob and kissed her dead husband's lips before hurriedly sticking the papers into the pockets of her own coat._

_Then she took the hands of her two children and they were running, running, running again…_

* * *

Ivan blinked back to reality, unaware that he had tears running down his face. He wiped them away, angry. If his father had just remained loyal to the Motherland, to Russia, this wouldn't have happened! He was furious beyond belief every time he thought of his father betraying their homeland for these- these-

But no word was terrible enough to describe how he felt about this nation and this city in particular. He hated it. Everything about it. But he hid his true emotions behind a cool smile and a seemingly upbeat attitude. If his friends, no… wrong word. If his peers knew how he really felt… Ah, there was the wave of guilt. He never understood it. Every time he tried to make his peers (friends) seem more insignificant, he felt guilty. Why? It wasn't as though he really enjoyed their company. They just barely alleviated the boredom. Perhaps that was why he fought so much: boredom. He scowled at the darkened ceiling and then winced; that Jones kid had a mean right hook.

Or maybe, he continued musing to himself, maybe he wanted to prove that he, too, was an excellent fighter. His father had been a soldier in the Red Army after all. A very highly ranked one at that. His family had a good life as well, he thought. His sister smiled all the time and he remembered when his mother announced that she was pregnant again. His father was ecstatic and the days were filled with laughter and sunshine. No one knew, or suspected, what was really going on in Braginsky's office. Again, Ivan shook his head. Though his father had been a traitor, he was still an honorable man. At least, that's what Katyusha had told him. And Katyusha was not a liar. Not like him. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes tightly in an attempt to get some well-deserved rest.

* * *

The rest of his weekend was relatively peaceful, although Natalya continued to be somewhat of a nuisance, but it was with a somewhat reluctant attitude that Ivan dragged himself to school on Monday morning. He met up with Toris and Feliks on the way, much to his dismay. Truthfully, he did enjoy their company, but sometimes he just needed to be alone. Like right now, for example. Ever since that fight, he had been having strange dreams. No… not dreams exactly, nor nightmares… They were memories. For the past few nights, he had been reliving his childhood memories in the form of dreams. Sitting down in his first period class, he recalled the one he had had Saturday night…

* * *

"_Come on, ma'am, push!" The doctor ordered. _

_They were at the United States embassy of some western European nation. When Anya Braginsky handed over the documents left in her care, they immediately took the family in, asking question after question until, with the stress of having run across a country and losing her husband, Anya cried out and collapsed. Now she was in the infirmary of the hospital, giving birth two months earlier than expected._

_She did as the doctor said and pushed hard, glad that someone had taken her other children else to distract them. They didn't need to see their mother in this condition. Sobbing from heartbreak and from the pain of childbirth._

"_It's a girl!" The doctor exclaimed as, with a final push, a loud wailing filled the room._

"_N-Natalya…" Anya gasped._

"_What?" The doctor looked at the woman in confusion as he wrapped the child in a blanket._

"_Her name…. is Natalya…." Her eyes fluttered close. "Please… get my children…."_

_The nurses all rushed about to find Katyusha and Ivan while another doctor tried to figure out why Anya's heartbeat was slowing. She was dying, and there was nothing the doctors could do._

_Finally, the two elder Braginsky children were brought in. Anya was holding baby Natalya with a tired smile._

"_Katyusha," she said, "You're the eldest child, so you must look after your younger siblings."_

_She nodded with a look of wonder on her face as her mother handed her the baby._

"_This is Natalya." Anya said softly. "She is your baby sister. Take care of her for me. For us."_

"_But Mama-"_

"_I'm sorry, Katyusha… I'll be gone very soon and you have to be brave… Ivan…"_

_Though only four, Ivan perked his ears and leaned in to listen to what his mother had to say. "You look just like your father…" She murmured, kissing his forehead. "Listen well to your sister and behave. You'll be sent to America and kept safe there. They won't be able to find you…"_

"_M-Mama?" Ivan clung to his mother's hand._

"_I'm sorry, my dears…" Anya's breath was fading. "Be safe…. I lo-"_

_The heart monitor flat-lined. The doctors rushed to revive Anya Braginsky, but it was too late. She was gone. Katyusha cried silently, keeping her tears off the baby. Ivan, on the other hand, lost it. He climbed onto the bed and shook his mother and demanded that she wake up. The doctors tried to pull him off, but he was uncommonly strong. Katyusha raised her voice to be heard above the din._

"_Ivan! There is nothing more you can do! It is over. Please, come and greet our sister."_

_His sister's words seemed to have an almost magical effect on him. He kissed his mother's cheeks and forehead before he climbed off and went to stand next to Katyusha and the tiny Natalya. The infant had quieted, now blinking up at Katyusha with uncommonly bright eyes. Ivan had to stand on tip-toe to see Natalya._

"_She is so small…" Ivan said._

"_That's because she was premature." The doctor came to talk with them._

"_But doesn't that mean she should be…" Katyusha trailed off._

"_I don't know, miss." The doctor said. "She seems uncannily strong for a child of that size. She will be fine."_

"_Thank God…" She muttered._

"_Miss and Mister Braginsky?" The two children turned. The person speaking was a woman who appeared to be somewhere between the ages of 25 and 35. "I'm Emily Jones, and this," She added, drawing from behind her a young girl who appeared to be the same age as Ivan, "Is Amelia. Say hi, Amelia."_

"_H-Hello." She said quietly._

_Though Russian, they were quite fluent with their English, having learned from the moment they were born from the father. Katyusha and Ivan could understand the woman and her daughter just fine._

"_I'm here on behalf of the United States." Mrs. Jones explained. "You'll be coming with me."_

"_What about our mother?" Katyusha asked. "We are just to leave her, unburied?" at 13 years old, Katyusha had become a bit more outspoken._

"_I'm sorry, but the faster you're out of Europe the better."_

_Katyusha paused, shifting Natalya in her arms, before nodding. "Very well."_

_The little girl called Amelia was looking at Ivan curiously. She stepped closer and put a hand to his cheek, tears in her clear blue eyes. "Please don't cry." She said, wiping the tears that had fallen earlier. "It makes me cry, and you're too pretty to be crying."_

_Mrs. Jones, shocked, pulled Amelia away. "Amelia, honey, don't do things like that. He can cry if he wants to. He is clearly very upset. I'm sorry." She added. "She's usually very well behaved."_

"_Wait!" Ivan toddled up to Amelia. "It is fine." He said, taking one of Amelia's hands in his own. "I'm sorry that I made such a pretty sunflower like you cry."_

_Mrs. Jones smiled faintly and turned, beckoning the children to follow her. Amelia and Ivan continued to hold hands._

"_What's your name?" she asked._

"_I-Ivan." He responded nervously. Or, as nervously as a three year old could be._

"_Ivan?" She repeated, pronouncing it wrong. He said it "E-van" and she said it "I-van". He didn't bother correcting her, though. He didn't mind if a girl as pretty as her messed up his name. "I'm Amelia."_

"_I know." He said. "Your mama told us."_

"_Oh yeah."_

"_Here, Katyusha, let me take the baby. I imagine she is heavy." Mrs. Jones said to Katyusha. _

"_Thank you." She said, passing Natalya up to the older woman. "Please be careful."_

_Emily Jones smiled. "I have two children, dear. I will take care of her."_

_Katyusha nodded and glanced back at her little brother, who was still holding hands with the American girl. She smiled faintly, glad that he had a friend. She then looked back at Mrs. Jones and hurried to match the woman's long strides._

"_Where are we going?"_

"_Your parents' wish was that you be raised as far away from here as possible." She said. "So you will be coming with me to America."_

* * *

"Mr. Braginsky, can you tell me the answer to number five?" Ivan blinked rapidly and turned to the teacher.

"Sir?"

"The answer to, oh never mind!" The teacher turned to another student, who was able to give the right answer.

Ivan shook his head. What was with these memories? Why did he remembered them so clearly? What was significant about them? His mother's death, yes and the birth of Natalya, but why did he remember the social worker and her daughter? They weren't important. Not in the slightest.

He needed to get his head out of the clouds, he decided. He would need his wits about him for today. Especially during fifth period, when he would have to deal with Alfred. His blood boiled just thinking about that smug American's face. Still, as annoying as he was, Ivan had to admit that Alfred Jones wasn't stupid. He was uncommonly smart, just like Ivan. No! They were nothing alike! And nothing anyone could say would make him change his mind.

* * *

**AN: Plot twists all out the wazoo today! Anyway, thank you all for reading and reviewing. I didn't think I would get this far! Thank you all, really. I'm really proud of this chapter! **


	9. Chapter 9

**I AM SO SORRY YOU HAVE NO IDEA! I WANTED THIS OUT BEFORE HALLOWEEN AND THEN A BUNCH OF CRAP HAPPENED AND I COULDN'T UPDATE! Seriously, I am so so sorry, I know you guys have been waiting for this chapter! Things get a little... um... I don't really know how to say it, but you all find out Matthew's reaction to finding a boy in his sister's room. (If it offends you, I'm sorry, but this is my story after all, and I can't please everyone). Anyway, read and review it. And again, I am so so sorry that I have updated. Also, she still looks like a boy to most of her classmates, but I was planning on switching back the feminine pronouns when someone found out, so that's why.**

* * *

****Chapter Nine

Monday morning came, Amelia rolling out of bed with a groan. Friday's fight, the beating she'd gotten from Matthew for having a boy in her room (somewhat harsh, but fair), made her feel like she'd been hit by a train. Gilbert, during first hour, noticed the discomfort of his friend, but shrugged it off. If Alfred didn't want to talk about it, Gilbert wouldn't make him talk.

Amelia made it through first hour and slid into her seat next to Arthur for English. They exchanged rueful smiles.

"So, still sore?" Amelia asked, pulling out her notebook.

"A bit, yeah…" Arthur grimaced. "Remind me to never piss off your brother again."

"You have to admit, though, his face was priceless."

"Maybe to you!" Arthur snapped weakly. "But I'll have nightmares for weeks."

* * *

_Matthew awoke early Saturday morning and went to kick the boys out of his apartment. It was only after everyone was gone that he noticed that a single coat lay on the floor. He frowned, glancing to Amelia's door. No… She couldn't… He went to the door and opened it cautiously. He stood on the threshold for a moment, taking in the scene. The messy blond-Arthur-curled around his baby sister as if he were protecting her. He didn't hesitate a moment longer. He crossed the room in three strides and pulled Arthur out of bed by his father. Arthur awoke with a strangled yell, and Amelia shot up in bed._

"_What the hell are you doing in here?" Matthew hissed, shaking him._

"_P-Please sir, we were just-"_

"_What the hell are _you _doing in here?!" Amelia jumped out of bed and tried to pull Arthur away from her brother._

"_Checking on you! So that no one- Amelia, no one was supposed to find out!"_

"_I just sort of came in-" Arthur tried to speak._

"_Shut it." Matthew growled. Arthur fell silent. Matthew kept hold of Arthur and grabbed a belt._

"_Mattie, don't-"_

_Too late. Matthew cracked the belt across Arthur's backside. He yelped and fell to the floor as Matthew released him._

"_I could press charges you know!" He bristled, rubbing his butt._

"_You could." Matthew said, unconcerned. "But you won't."_

_Arthur opened his mouth to argue before hanging his head. "I'm sorry…" He mumbled before grabbing his things and fleeing._

_It was dead silent in the apartment._

"_Matthew, I-"_

"_I told you, Amelia. Two rules: tell me where you are and no boys in your room. It's not that hard to follow them…"_

_Her brother certainly did have a way with making her feel disappointed in herself. "I'm sorry…"_

"_Amelia, you know what this means." Matthew said, sighing. "'Just because you're a teenager-'"_

"'_-doesn't mean I'm too old to be spanked.'" It was a quote of their mother's, whenever they were in trouble. She believed in corporal punishment, and didn't hesitate to use it if they screwed up big time. Amelia lay back on her bed, face down, and gritted her teeth. The only comfort was that Matthew hated having to punish her, even if she did take it well. Matthew gave her a quick whack on her buttocks, the sound echoing throughout the apartment. It stung quite badly, but Amelia didn't start crying until Matthew had left, closing her bedroom door with a snap…_

* * *

"-brother still mad at me?"

Amelia blinked. "Huh?"

Arthur snapped his finger in front of her face. "Come on, Jones, pay attention. Is your brother still mad at me?"

"Oh. No. He's not." She bit her lip. "I'm really sorry he hit you, Arthur. He's usually really nice…"

"It's okay." He shrugged it off. "I'd probably do the same thing if it was my little sister."

Amelia nodded and made a fist, holding it up. "Friends?"

He nodded and touched his fist to hers. "Friends."

* * *

Amelia's next few classes (plus lunch) were relatively uneventful, but she couldn't help but feel a certain sense of dread as she made her way to her fifth hour chemistry class. She paused for a moment to duck into a blissfully empty restroom and splashed water on her face. She could deal with him. She could. Even though she hated his guts with a passion that-

She took a deep breath and waited until the bell rang before emerging from the restroom. She was late, and noticed when Mrs. Snow marked it on her chart, but she shrugged it off and went to sit next to her worst enemy-if high schoolers could have worst enemies.

"Alfred."

"Ivan."

That was all that was said during the whole class period. They handed in their homework, took notes, and started on that day's assignment, all in silence. The bell rang and Amelia exhaled in relief. She stood and was about to run for the door when her arm caught on something: Ivan's hand.

"A moment, Jones?"

She rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

"We're going to fall behind on our project if we do not do some outside work."

She tried to pull away. "Your point?"

"I will be coming over to your apartment this evening."

"What?!"

"I will not lose this project, Jones!"

Amelia succeeded in wrenching her arm out of his grip. "And I won't have you in my home! Why don't we go to your house?" She stomped off, but Ivan followed.

"My sister works."

"So does my brother."

"Where are your parents?"

"Where are yours?" She shot back.

He fell silent for a moment as they pushed through the halls. "They are not around. Fine. I will give you time to clean your pig-sty of a home. I will come over tomorrow."

"My home is not a sty and you will not be coming over!"

He waved a hand airily, as if he didn't hear her, and disappeared. Amelia opened her locker and dumped her books in it, furious.

* * *

"Whoa, what's got you wound up?" Mathias asked as she threw the ball violently at him.

"Ivan fucking Braginsky."

"Seems like he winds us all up, then…" He passed the ball back to her and she caught it deftly.

"He wants to come over to my place."

His eyes widened as she threw the ball back. "No!"

She nodded grimly. "Yep. Bastard wants to work on our stupid science project." They looked over to where Ivan was partnered with another student. Neither were talking to the other; they looked more like they were at a funeral than gym class.

"You gonna let him?"

She sighed. "I'm going to have to."

"All right, class! Hit the showers!" The class moved as one to the door at Coach Beilschmidt's word.

Amelia hung back, making a face, before dashing into the locker room, grabbing her things, and hiding in a stall. She changed quickly and waited for the locker room to empty.

The bell rang and she made it to her school locker without incident. She grabbed her things and was about to shut the door when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned. It was Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio.

"Bon jour, mon ami." Francis said with a grin. "We didn't talk much today, and you have been awfully quiet."

"Tell us what ails you." Antonio made his voice sound all mystical, causing Amelia to roll her eyes.

"Nothing. Just a bad day."

"Well, good thing we know what'll cheer you up." Gilbert said, grinning.

"What?" She responded dully.

"A party!" Francis exclaimed.

"No."

They all looked crestfallen. "But…" Antonio began pleading. "You have to come… Francis always throws the best Halloween parties…"

"When is it?"

"This Saturday. The Saturday before Halloween."

"Please say you'll come."

"They'll be costumes and snacks!"

"Come, Alfie! For us!"

They were all over lapping each other, trying to be heard. "Enough!" Amelia practically shouted. They fell silent, nervous. After a sigh, she nodded. "I'll come to your stupid party. Only because you were nice enough to invite me."

They cheered and gave her a group hug.

"So, got any costume ideas?" Gilbert asked.

"Dude, you guys just invited me. I'll think of something. I gotta go. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

She waved at them and darted out the front door of the school before she could be waylaid by anyone else.

As she began her homework at the dining room table, she thought about the invitation her friends had extended her. A costume party. And apparently anyone and everyone was welcome. This Saturday… She marked the note in her mind. She was going. She wasn't going to wear some stupid costume, though. Alfred Jones would be at the party as herself. As Amelia.


	10. Chapter 10

**You were all so happy for the last update, that I thought I'd update again quickly! Thank you all so much! About chapter 8... I was re-reading it and I noticed some grammatical errors, so I fixed them. Sorry for the confusion.**

* * *

****Chapter Ten

Though Ivan tried many times over the course of the week to get into Amelia's apartment, she continued to stubbornly refuse.

"If it's that big of a deal, why don't we just do work at the library? That's what it's there for!"

"I do not want to be disturbed."

"Well, _I _would be disturbed if you were in my apartment!"

That made Ivan shut up. At least, for a moment. "Why?"

"Because I hate your fucking guts, that's why."

"Well, aren't you honest?"

"I try to be." The bell rang and Amelia packed up her things.

"How about on tomorrow?"

"Can't. Party."

"_You? _At a party? Oh, this I must see."

"You're not invited." She stomped out of the classroom and headed for her last period. It was finally Friday, and she was actually quite excited for the party on Saturday. It had been a bit tricky convincing Matthew, but she did tell him that Arthur would escort her to the party and home. He still didn't like Arthur much, but he had at least allowed this. He even approved of her costume, with a few alterations. Why go as a cross-dressing boy, when you could go as a crossing dressing vampire? With a little creativity, Matthew and Amelia had managed to make her a pair of fang that didn't impede her speech. Mathias and she talked about the party while lifting weights.

"So, what are you going as?" Mathias asked, grunting as he completed another set of bench presses.

"It's a surprise." She responded, gasping slightly; she had been running on the treadmill.

"C'mon. You can tell me."

"Nope."

"Alfred…" He whined. "Pleeeease?"

"_No."_

Mathias stuck his tongue out at her. "Jerk."

Amelia shrugged. "Trust me, though, you'll love it."

Mathias nodded. "I think Lukas, Berwald, and I are going to try to do something matchy."

"Really? Why?"

"Because it'll be fun. We're thinking 3 Musketeers."

She laughed. "That would be pretty awesome, but if you were going to do something that complicated, shouldn't you have planned it out?"

"Er…"

She looked down at Mathias. "You planned it without them knowing, didn't you?"

"Maybe…"

She chuckled again, shaking her head. "Lukas is going to murder you."

"He'll probably alter it so that he can be some sort of magician or something…"

"He into that sort of thing?"

Mathias glanced around uneasily. "Yeah… Him and Arthur and this other kid, I can't remember his name, but they are all sort of… obsessed with magic. They think it's real."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Really? But Arthur seems so… normal."

Mathias sat up. "I know. So do a lot of people. It only bothers me when they look like they're up to something, though."

"Ah, okay." She didn't really believe him. If magic existed, then her parents wouldn't have died. That's what she thought, anyway, as Coach Beilschmidt dismissed them to change.

* * *

"Have her home by midnight, Kirkland." Matthew said sternly while Amelia did some adjusting to her hair.

"I will, sir." Arthur nodded. He was dressed in a black buttoned shirt and black pants, with a green (there was no other word for it) cloak over it. It brought out his eyes.

"Okay, I'm ready." Amelia was dressed to kill. She had allowed her hair to remain curly, giving her a more girly look, and was wearing a tight red dress (but not too tight), and a pair of black high-heeled boots. She had a large black bow in her hair, and was wearing a long, black leather coat that complimented her figure. To complete the ensemble, she was sporting a neat pair of vampire fangs, protruding slightly over blood-red lips.

"Wow… I…" Arthur turned very red. "You look good. You should wear stuff like that more often…"

"I'm a boy, remember?" But she smiled. "Thank you, Arthur. You look nice too. What… are you supposed to be?"

"A mage!" Arthur said hotly. "Can't you tell?"

"Er… Not really, no."

He shook his head as Amelia kissed Matthew on the cheek. "Home." He said. "Midnight."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll be home by midnight, I promise."

He nodded, but his eyes were still filled with worry. They waved and vanished into the night.

"So, how far of a walk is it?" Amelia asked, slipping her hand into Arthur's. She felt safer when he squeezed her hand back.

"Not far. But, um, as you're a boy, we probably should stop holding hands before we go in…"

"Oh…" she let go immediately. "Sorry."

"No, I…" He shook his head. "Never mind."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, keeping an eye out for whatever monsters plagued the streets on a Saturday night in New York City. So far, all was quiet, but if they were accosted in any way, Amelia had a bottle of Mace in her purse. That, and she was perfectly capable of defending herself. When they weren't lifting weights in advanced P. E., they were learning self-defense. Coach Beilschmidt would occasionally invite Mr. Wang to come in and show them some moves, and Amelia was one of the best fighters, according to them.

"Here-" Arthur pointed to a somewhat posh apartment building; there was even a doorman.

"What do you kids want?" he asked, gruffly.

"We're here for Francis Bonnefoy's party." Arthur answered. The doorman looked them up and down before nodding and opening the door.

"Have a nice time."

Amelia and Arthur grinned at each other and hurried inside. They went to the elevator, and Arthur, who had clearly been there before, hit the button for one of the tops floors. Amelia couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the floor choice. Just how much money did Francis have to live in a place like this?

"His mother is a fashion designer and his father is a model." Arthur said quietly as the doors slid open.

"Huh?" They stepped out of the elevator and Arthur led her to a door at the end of the hall.

"Francis is… kind of rich."

"Then why is he going to the crappest school in New York?" She asked as he rapped on the door.

"He didn't want his parents paying tuition for a private school when the money could be saved for college tuition instead."

"Wow… He's pretty smart, huh?"

"Bon soir, mes amis!" Francis pulled open the door and hugged them both before stepping back and looking at them. "But who is your beautiful friend, Arthur?"

"You know me!" Amelia said, lowering her voice. "It's Alfred!"

Francis' eyes widened. "Alfred? Really?" He let out a low whistle. "I must compliment on this most excellent costume. Not only are you a vampire, but you are a girl vampire! _Très interessant!"_

"Yes, yes, all right, Frog." Arthur pushed past him to enter the low-lit apartment. Francis had gone all out: there were pumpkins and bats and spiders adorning every surface; black, orange, and purple ribbons twisted across the ceilings; Halloween themed food lined one wall; creepy music was blasting from the speakers.

"Wow, Francey-pants. This is pretty cool." Arthur looked around appreciatively.

"I had help from _ma mere." _He shrugged. "She has quite an eye for decorating."

"I'll say…" Amelia muttered. It was a pretty awesome place, and people were already dancing and talking and laughing. Amelia decided to hang out by the wall.

"So…" Francis pulled Arthur to the side. "Is that truly Alfred? Our Alfred?"

Arthur nodded. "For tonight, though, he prefers Amelia."

"Is he really a cross-dresser or is this just a stunt?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you seem to know him better than the rest of us." They watched as Antonio and Gilbert began flirting with her. "Though, this should be fun to watch…"

"Hey, Sex Kitty." Gilbert said, slinging an arm across Amelia's shoulders. "Want to dance?"

"Only if you dance the girl part." Amelia responded. Gilbert jumped and stepped away from her.

"Alfred?"

"Duh."

Antonio burst out laughing. "Oh, that's the best! I can't believe you came here dressed as a woman! And very convincingly too."

"Thank you. As you can see, I'm also a vampire."

They grinned. "So, can you sound like a girl?" Gilbert asked.

"Of course I can." Amelia changed her voice back to the way she usually sounded. "How's this?"

They gaped. "That's incredible!" Antonio said.

"Just call me Amelia." She said, winking. "I'm going to dance." She went off to the dance floor, swishing her hips.

"Wow…" Gilbert said. "If he really were a girl…"

Antonio nodded. "I'm with you there."

Francis and Arthur came over to them. "So, I think Alfred wins best costume." Arthur said.

"He even shaved his legs for this." Gilbert noticed.

"That is determination." Francis agreed.

"What is he using for his…?" Antonio gestured vaguely to his chest and they all cracked up. A knock at the door made Francis stop.

"There shouldn't be any more guests…"

"Maybe it's someone who wants us to quiet down?" Arthur proposed.

"Go and answer it." Gilbert nudged Francis towards the door.

Francis walked toward the door, and the others followed. Amelia, sensing that something was up, joined them. Francis opened the door to a truly scary sight: Ivan Braginsky. They all grimaced at each other.

"What are you doing here, Braginsky?" Francis asked.

He smirked. "I was bored."

Amelia pushed her way to the front and stood next to Francis. "You can't just show up at someone's home without an invitation!" She said hotly.

"Oh? And who is this, Bonnefoy? A little whore to keep you company tonight?"

Francis looked like he was going to punch Ivan in the face. "For your information, I don't swing that way. This is Alfred, you dumb ass."

Ivan blinked several times in rapid succession. "This is Alfred? Alfred Jones?" He looked like he was about to start laughing. "I always knew you had some secret. Finally coming out?"

She was restrained by Gilbert and Antonio. "Go home, Ruskii." Arthur said crossly.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, all right. I can see where I am not wanted. But you should be careful, _Miss _Jones. There are quite a few perverts out there."

"Yeah and you're one of them!" she shouted.

"Tsk, tsk. What would your parents say?" The whole party got quiet. Every single person there knew about Amelia's parents.

She screwed her face up, trying not to cry. "It doesn't matter. What would your parents say?"

He shrugged. "I do not know and I do not care. At least they don't have to worry about their son being on the turn."

She broke free and shoved Ivan. With her boots on, she was eye level with him. She found him quite unintimidating. He shoved her back.

"Hey!" Francis got between them. "Take it outside, men."

"An excellent plan." Ivan growled, nostrils flaring.

"Arthur, get me my coat." Amelia said, lips barely moving.

"But-"

"Do it, Kirkland!"

He hurried back into the apartment and grabbed Amelia's jacket and handed it to her. She slid it on and left the building with Ivan. It seemed as though half of the party was following them. Ivan stopped walking and Amelia walked a few more paces before rounding on Ivan. The air was cold and their breath misted and it rose in the air.

Ivan smirked. "So, little man, tell me who your boyfriend is." He was taunting her.

"I don't have a boyfriend." She shot back.

He nodded in mock sympathy. "Too ugly. I understand."

"Fuck this…" She growled. She started forward and punched him in the jaw. He spun as her knuckles connected and stumbled back several feet.

"_Oh, little one, you should not have done that." _He was quick to retaliate, punching her in the stomach. She fell and he kicked her again in the same spot. Though winded, she rolled and bounced back to her feet, panting.

They began circling each other, punching and blocking. The crowd was mesmerized; no one had ever lasted so long in a fight against Ivan Braginsky. Amelia's thin frame was an advantage and gave her more speed. Ivan's coat was heavy, and slowed him down. After about five minutes, they both threw their coats off, but Ivan kept his scarf on. Ivan tried tripping her, but she avoided it and grabbed Ivan by his scarf. He stumbled and fell, landing on the icy asphalt.

"We're going to be here all night, Braginsky and I've got a curfew. What the fuck is your problem?"

He responded by getting back up and tackling her. Unbalanced on her heels, she fell back and he landed on top of her. Somehow, her dress tore. She looked up fearfully into Ivan's merciless purple eyes. If he saw… _Shit! _She thought. He had seen, and his eyes widened. He got up quickly and backed away. She scrambled quickly to cover herself; no one else had seen. But it wasn't everyone else he was worried about. It was Ivan.

"You… You can't be… You…." He shook his head, grabbed his coat, and fled.

Arthur hurried forward with her jacket and put it over her shoulders. For good measure, he also put his cloak over her. "C'mon, Amelia, it's 12:30. Matthew's going to be really mad…"

She nodded and was grateful to Arthur as he yelled at the spectators to clear off. They left reluctantly, muttering to each other as to who won. As Amelia and Arthur walked back to her apartment, she began crying.

"He saw, Arthur, he saw and… H-He's going to tell someone, I know it! It's j-just the kind of thing that f-fucker would do…"

"Amelia, please calm down." He rubbed her back and tried to speak soothingly. "It'll be fine. No one will believe him, and the teachers know, don't they? So, there's no reason to worry…"

She nodded, taking several shaky breaths. "Y-You're right, Arthur. But… He… How dare he talk about me like that?! How dare he even mention Mom and Dad?!" She dissolved into tears again as Arthur helped her up the stairs to her apartment.

"Amelia, what the hell?! I say midnight and I meant- What's wrong?" Matthew pulled Amelia away from Arthur and looked her up and down. "Amelia, what's happened? Who did this to you?" Her nose was bleeding and her face was blooming into colorful bruises.

"Ivan Braginsky…" She muttered, wiping her eyes. The name struck a familiar chord with Matthew, but he couldn't quite place it. He shrugged it off and directed his sister to the kitchen where he sat her down and pulled her boots off. The amount of movement in shoes like that had also caused her feet to bleed. She glanced down at them and let out something that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a sob.

"Feet are bleeding too. G-Great." She might have been slightly hysterical.

"I'll clean you up, hero…" Matthew muttered, using an old nick-name. He glanced back at Arthur. "Can you make it home on your own?"

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, I can make it. See you later, Amy."

"Bye…" She said sullenly. He waved and left.

Once he was gone, Matthew began cleaning her up. Dabbing at blood, wiping her feet, putting disinfectant on all of her wounds; he did it all. She fell asleep while he was doing so, and Matthew decided not to question her tonight. He lifted her up and carried her to her bedroom. Even when he sat her on the bed, she didn't awake. With a sigh, but not caring in particular how awkward it was, he grabbed a t-shirt and sweat pants for her to wear. He put her pants on for her and gently pulled the dress up and over her head. She was, thankfully, wearing a tank top underneath the dress. He pulled the t-shirt on her and adjusted her limbs on the bed so that she would be comfortable. He tucked the blankets around his little sister and smoothed her hair down. She looked so much more like the child who had been so excited to go to Europe with their mother when she was sleeping than when she was awake. He supposed that sleeping did add a certain innocent to Amelia. Matthew kissed her forehead and left the room, turning off the light and closing the door softly behind him.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Ivan ran home. Flat-out sprinting, barely noticing as he cramped up, the stitches in his sides burning. Alfred… wasn't an Alfred. He was a she. He slowed his steps, making his way warily up the stairs to his small, dingy home. There had to be some logical explanation. But no. Alfred's-or whatever her name was-behavior _was _the logical explanation. (S)He walked with an over-done swagger, balanced his (her) books at the hip, hid while changing in the locker-He froze, scowling. She had most probably seen something that she should not have seen. But now he, Ivan, knew something that wasn't supposed to be known. He calmed down as a plan began to form in the back of his mind.

* * *

"Where is it, where is it?" Amelia woke up Sunday morning to loud rustlings and bangings coming from the front room.

"Mattie?" She called, climbing out of bed and attempting to open her door. It stopped about halfway, blocked by something. She slid through the wide crack and stumbled into the living room. Or, at least, she assumed it was the living room. It was hard to tell with the mass of boxes and files that had appeared in their apartment overnight.

"Mattie!" She tried again, exhaling in relief when her brother's wavy blond hair popped up next to a dangerously high stack.

"Morning, kiddo." He said, shuffling some papers in his hands before spreading them out on the coffee table. "Breakfast is in the kitchen."

"M'kay." Amelia pushed her hair out of her face and went to the kitchen. On the table was a box of a dozen doughnuts. She was instantly suspicious. Matthew only bought her doughnuts when he was trying to bribe her.

Turning her back on the box, she went back into the living room. "What do you want?" she asked sharply.

He looked at her with innocent blue eyes. _Good grief, _she thought, _26 years old, and that face makes him look five. _"Nothing!" he said in a tone that _almost _matched his face. Amelia folded her arms and raised a brow. He faltered. "I… Something you said last night bothered me, so I'm just checking into it."

"Why'd you buy me doughnuts?"

"Looked like you had a rough time last night."

Her face fell into a mask of misery. "He found out. That jerk found out."

Matthew stood and hugged Amelia tightly. She hugged him back, crying a little bit. "Oh, Mattie, I hate him."

"Hush now or I'll sing to you in French…"

She chuckled quietly and pulled away. Wiping her eyes, she said, "Thanks, Matt, but I think I'll just hang out in my room today with my books."

He nodded. "Good plan. I need the living room and no offense, but I don't want you in the way."

"None taken." She went and snagged a doughnut (or three) from the kitchen and returned to her room. There, she had Narnia, Hogwarts, Panem, and other fictional worlds were waiting for her within the pages of books.

* * *

The siblings passed most of morning in this way. Amelia, curled up with a book; Matthew, with his "research". They were both broken out of their stupors by a knock at the door. Matthew stood, straightening his class, and Amelia emerged from her room, a look of curiosity marking her countenance.

Matthew opened the door with a half-glance at his sister. "Yes?"

"I am here to see the girl."

Amelia knew that stupid voice anywhere. "Dammit." She muttered, pushing past Matthew. "I'll deal with this." He hesitated before nodding and going back to his papers. Amelia leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms. "What do you want?" She asked, bitingly.

Ivan twisted the end of his scarf. If Amelia didn't know any better, she would have thought him to be nervous. "Come for a walk with me." He said shortly.

She blinked. "No." She began closing the door, but Ivan stuck his foot out and stopped her.

"Let me rephrase that, you stupid girl. You _will _come with me."

She raised an eyebrow. "You hold no authority over-"

"Actually, malytuka, I do." He smirked. "I know who you really are, Amelia Jones. It would be rather unfortunate if everyone else found out as well…"

She went numb. "You wouldn't."

"Come with me so that we may reach an… agreement."

"And by that, you mean blackmail."

"Not as stupid as you look, then."

Fuming, she managed to get the door shut this time. Ivan called through the wood, "Hurry up."

She went and got her coat and gloves. New York was always freezing by mid-October; it wasn't even November yet, but forecasts were already calling for snow.

Ivan called for her again, sounding impatient. "I'm coming!" She yelled, pulling on her shoes. "I'll be back later." She told Matt.

"Don't fight him. I don't want your face more torn up than it already is."

She nodded and opened the door to reveal an annoyed looking Ivan. She walked past him, heading for the stairs. "Come on, then. You're the one who wants to blackmail me."

He blinked and hurried to catch up with her. He really hadn't expected her to be so compliant. This pleased him; she would be that much easier to manipulate in the future.

"If you think I'm going to be easy to control, you're pretty dim." She said, not looking at him as they walked the cold streets.

His face showed surprise before morphing back into his usual mask of indifference. "If you want your secret to remain safe, you will obey me."

She snorted. "'Obey', yeah, right. Sure. I'll get right on that."

He scowled and grabbed her arm roughly. "I am not joking around with you."

She jerked her arms away. "Don't touch me, pig."

He stepped away from her, folding his arms. This was going to be a lot more difficult than he had originally anticipated. She was wily and crass. He was almost reminded of his little sister, though Katyusha had taught them both to be far more refined than Amelia ever would be. The thought made him smirk.

"Shut up smiling." She growled at him. He looked at her, surprised. He wasn't sure if he had ever been told to shut up before. If so, it had only ever been by her.

She started walking again and he followed. They reached a deserted playground and Amelia sat on a swing, winding one arm around the chain for balance. Ivan leaned against one of the poles holding the structure up and watched her.

"How did you find my apartment?" She asked after a moment.

He shrugged. "Eduard is quite skilled with computers."

She glared at him. "Does he know?"

Ivan shook his head. "He does not. You are enrolled in the school's database as Alfred."

"But you called me Amelia."

"Ah, yes, that. Hm…" Ivan paused thoughtfully. "That was my own bit. Once I had your profile up, I told Eduard to leave me to my own devices. He did so and I dug a little deeper, looking up your brother and guardian, Matthew."

"So you know about my parents." She looked at the ground.

"Yes, well, they should not have been driving in bad weather…"

"Fuck you!" She got up from the swing and grabbed him by his collar. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare blame them for what that drunk bastard did! It may have been raining, but they died because some idiot thought it would be fun to get fucking wasted!"

Ivan clasped her wrists and pulled her hands away. "Don't touch me." She twisted her hands, getting them out of his iron grip.

"Ditto." She spat.

They stood in silence for a moment, sizing each other up. Finally, Amelia spoke again. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"Your loyalty and an oath to serve me always."

"What the flying fuck is this, the Middle Ages?"

"Do you wish for me to reveal your secret?"

"I'm not going to swear an oath to you, you moron."

"Fine. Then you will be my lackey and do everything I ask of you."

"But-"

"So, I will be coming by your place again tomorrow after school. I tend to be a bit hungry after class, so be sure to have food. We will spend the evening working on the science fair project and, when we are done with that, you will do the rest of my homework for me."

"I-"

"Oh, and another thing: while I am over, you must dress like a girl. Acting like a man when it is so painfully obvious now that you are a woman is simply unbecoming."

"I hate you!" She turned around and stomped away.

"See you later, then, Miss Jones." He watched her walk away, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Oh, and you will join me in the library during lunch!"

She ignored him and continued walking home. She pulled out her phone and called Arthur's number. He answer immediately.

"Hello? Shit! Peter, go away, you twit!" There was some shouting and scuffling in the background. "Sorry." He said, slightly breathless. "Amelia, is that you?"

"Yeah. I just got done talking to our favorite neighborhood Russian."

"Shit. Are you serious?"

"I wish I wasn't."

"What did he want?"

"To blackmail me."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "Dammit. Are you still with him?"

"Hell, no. Why do think I'm calling now?"

"Well, what do you want?"

She paused. "I don't know. I just wanted to hear a sane voice, I guess."

"Oh." Another pause, on his end. "Do you want me to come over?"

"No… I'm fine. But… I might not be around as much. He's made me, like, his personal slave."

"That sucks. What are you going to do?"

"I can't do anything. If I do, he'll tell people."

"Is keeping your sex a secret so important that it really bothers you that much?"

"Yes! I'm… comfortable with being Alfred."

"You don't sound sure."

"Look, if I come out now, everyone's going to freak, so let's just not do this, all right?"

He gave an irritated sigh. "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye." She hung up the phone.

Well, Amelia hadn't really expected the Brit to be able to solve her problems. Arthur was a good friend, but he did kind of suck at stuff like this. Now that she was to be Ivan's little slavey girl, she needed a plan. And quickly. She began jogging, then running, pushing past the people brave enough to step out into the cold. Finally, red-faced and breathless, she slammed her apartment door shut and pulled off her hat.

"Matthew, I need your help."

* * *

"Ivan, why would you do something like this?" Ivan was trying to finish a paper as his younger sister continued to nag him. While he hadn't been 100 percent clear with either of his sisters as to where he had gone that afternoon, Natalya was sharp enough to know loosely what it might possibly involve.

"I can always use a little extra help." He said vaguely.

"To expand your little high school empire?" She scoffed.

"Something like that."

She rolled her eyes and rested her hands on his shoulders. He studiously ignored her. "Ivan."

"No."

She dug her nails into his shoulders and let go. His face remained impassive. "I want to be with you, though."

"Natalya, you are my little sister. That should be enough for you."

She _tsk_ed and flounced away to her room, slamming the door behind her. He shook his head. His 15 year old sister was, for some reason, in love with him. Literally. He had no idea when or why this happened; it was cute at first, when she was three and he was six, but now he was irritated. She needed to get over it and date boys her own age. And not related to her. She insisted that she wasn't interested in any boys in her grade, but he knew that plenty were interested in her. Even a few older students found her to be quite beautiful. He supposed she was, but he was honestly scared of her. It was Katyusha's fault; she insisted that Natalya take self-defense classes. And Natalya was rather good. Not only that, but her teacher had also decided to train them with weapons. So now his sister was also a knife thrower. All in all, the Braginsky household was quite strange.

"I suppose I'm on my own for dinner tonight…" he muttered to himself. With Katyusha always working to provide for them, Ivan and Natalya often spent nights home alone. This didn't make them any closer, though, as Ivan was often in his own room or so far drawn into himself that he often didn't speak for hours on end. Natalya went about her business; she was in various clubs and after school activities and preferred going to and from said activities by herself. She was a very independent young woman. They were a fractured trio, and none of Katyusha's coddling could change that. Maybe if their parents were still alive… He shook his head.

They were on their own now, and had been for years. No amount of wishing or wanting them back was going to change that. It was time for him to grow up and move on with his life. If he continued dwelling on it as he had been lately, he would go mad. And no one wanted it that.

* * *

**Author Note: I know I should probably get a climax planned, but I was rather hoping to drag it out longer... And the last bit with Ivan I just tacked on because I wanted the chapter to be longer. I know it sucks. I guess I wanted to throw in some more about my own portrayal of Ivan, Katyusha, and Natalya. So, yeah... Also, I kind of want to write out other stories that aren't linked to this one and... Aw, who cares...? Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Oh, one more thing: If you feel I reuse phrases or words too much, please tell me so that I don't sound redundant. Thanks for reading and reviewing.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Did it seem to take a while for me to update? If so, I'm sorry. I've been sick and stuffs. But I'm back with a lovely chapter that hopefully isn't stupid.**

* * *

With Matthew's advice and support from her friends (well, from Arthur), Amelia entered the library during lunch on Monday a little less nervously than she would've thought.

"I'll be in the fantasy section if you need me." He whispered.

She nodded and walked over to where the taller man was sitting alone, studying a book. With a sly grin, she decided to sneak up on him, only for him to turn sharply and grab her wrist harshly.

"I would not recommend sneaking up on me again, Miss Jones." He said in a low voice.

"Let go of me." She responded, her voice equally low.

They glared at each other before he released her. She jerked away and went to sit across from him. Each was examining the other, but Amelia found that she couldn't meet his cold, purple eyes. Who had purple eyes? Clearly, this weirdo. She decided to examine their surroundings instead. The shelves and the books that made up most of the library were battered and badly needed to be replaced. She supposed they didn't have the money for that, though. There were books stacked around Ivan as well, ranging from history to philosophy to math. She noticed that the math book, in particular was especially worn. She snatched it, but again, his hand came down on top of hers. His eyes flashed.

"I have no wish to hurt you-"

"Liar."

He blinked, surprised. "You can't possibly know that."

"I know that, given past experiences, that you can hurt me. I also know, from rumor and observation, that you are dangerous. I know that this whole deal, or whatever the hell it is that we've got going on, is designed to hurt me, and I can tell in your eyes that you enjoy violence. You revel in blood."

"_Well, I'll be damned." _He muttered quietly. "You wouldn't happen to have read Sherlock Holmes, have you?"

She was smug. "As a matter of fact, I have. Not only that, but I have an observant nature. Plus, your pupils were dilating."

He scowled.

"My mother was a rather successful social worker." She shrugged. "Now, kindly remove your hand before I snap it off at the wrist."

The venom in her voice was so shocking that he released her and the book. She opened it and peered inside. There were many notes scrawled in English and some weird symbols. She noticed that on some pages that seemed to have more difficult problems on it. Suddenly, something clicked.

"Ivan?"

"What?" He said, aggressively.

"Are you bad at math?"

"What if I am?"

"But how can you be bad at math when you're good at science?"

He didn't answer.

"Because I've seen your grades and test scores. They're really good."

Again, he didn't respond except for a non-committal grunt.

"I'm in calculus." She tried again. "I could help you get better grades."

He looked at her, allowing an expression of shock to cross his features before hiding behind a cool smile. "Oh, please, Amelia. I do not need your help."

"Then why am I here?" She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms.

Even as she moved in her seat to get away from him, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. His smirk widened. "I wanted a new toy."

She gaped at him. "People are not things and they certainly aren't toys!" She whispered furiously as the librarian walked past.

"If they are as dim and as stupid as you, then yes, they are."

"I just offered to help you in a class that you clearly don't understand!"

"And I said I did not need your help."

"More like your pride won't allow it."

"What is a man without his pride?"

"Someone with actual friends." She stood, gathering her books.

"I'm not done with you yet." He growled standing and, for the third time, grabbing her arm.

She was done with this. Dropping her books out of her free arm, she swung and punched him in almost the exact stop she had hit him on Saturday. He didn't hesitate, picking her up and slamming her body to the ground. She cried out, loudly. Arthur, true to his word, was there to help. Or, to go look for help. Amelia saw him run out of the library before Ivan's fist connected with her nose, breaking it and shattering her glasses. She struggled under his weight.

"Get off of me, fuckass!"

"You were the one that attacked me."

"You kept grabbing my arm, you-" She was cut off as he clamped his hand down over her mouth. She struggled further. Her nose was covered, and she was losing air. She began thrashing about, hands scrabbling at his wrist.

"Here, sir!" Arthur was running back with Mr. Wang following at a short distance. He stood over the wrestling teenagers, arms folded.

"Ivan." He spoke calmly.

"Da?" He didn't look up at the man, eyes locked on Amelia's tear-filled ones.

"Let go of her."

"Nyet. She insulted me."

"If by that, you mean her giving you that bruise, aru, then you deserved it."

He turned his head to look at the principal. Mr. Wang's inky onyx eyes bore into Ivan's amethyst ones.

"_Let her up, or I will remove you by force. You will not be allowed to abuse your fellow classmates like this."_

"_She abused me!"_

"_You point abuse at anyone that you feel wrongs you." _Mr. Wang stepped closer. "_You are a child."_

In a motion quicker than anyone could believe, Mr. Wang pulled Ivan away from Amelia and had his face in the dusty floor.

"_Stay down!" _Mr. Wang didn't shout, but he didn't need to. He spoke in a stern enough voice that even someone as indomitable as Ivan had to obey. Arthur rushed to Amelia's side as she sat up, coughing and rubbing her throat.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, pulling her into a careful hug.

"F-Fine…" She said hoarsely.

"You two." Mr. Wang looked from Ivan to Amelia. "My office. Now."

Amelia nodded and Arthur helped her up. Ivan stood on his own, dusting his jacket off. Without a backward glance, he followed Mr. Wang out of the library. Arthur supported her to the office, but she waved him off once they reached the door.

Mr. Wang turned around and pointed to two seats, some distance from each other. "Sit." They did so, glaring in opposite directions. "I will be calling your guardians." Amelia's eyebrows lifted in surprise. Guardians? That implied that… She sneaked a glance at Ivan, but his face remained as impassive as ever. Mr. Wang disappeared into his office, leaving the two teens unattended.

They remained in their respective places for about 15 minutes. Mr. Wang wouldn't let them go to class and the office fell into an uneasy silence. This was broken by the door slamming open and light-haired woman in a waitress uniform storming in.

"Vanya!" She shrieked, grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him. She was hysterical, shouting at him in Russian. He responded with a dead voice that matched his face. Completely devoid of emotion. _How did he even do that?_ She thought to herself. _If it was Matthew-_

"Am-Alfred!" And there he was. Her brother went over to her and crouch down so that they were eye level. "I told you. I told you not to fight!"

She blinked away tears. "I'm sorry, Mattie."

He sighed and continued looking at her. "What happened to your glasses?"

Trying not to blubber, she pulled the broke frames out of her pocket. "I-I know we c-can't afford i-it, but I d-d-didn't think a-about taking them o-off and, and, and-"

"Mr. Williams, Miss Braginsky, if you and your charges would please step into my office, aru."

Matthew glanced at the 'Miss Braginsky' as he helped his sister up. He noticed that she was looking at him as well. The young woman rested her hands on Ivan's shoulders protectively. Matthew slung his arm over Amelia's shoulder, glaring ever so slightly. Amelia and Ivan sat down in the two chairs across from Mr. Wang's desk, their siblings standing behind them. Mr. Wang folded his arms with a sigh.

"The story of the rivalry between these two has become something of a legend."

They raised their eyebrows in surprised.

"Vanya, is this true?"

"Does it really matter, Katyusha?"

"How many fights have you gotten into with this boy, Am-Alfred?" Matthew asked her. Ivan glared at the pair of them, but didn't comment.

"Um… three…? I think?" She looked at her hands guiltily. "But I didn't try to strangle him like he did me!"

"My brother would never do something-"

"Miss Braginsky, I am sorry, but your brother would. He has. He did, to this poor boy here." Mr. Wang gestured to Amelia.

Matthew's eyes widened. "What?!" He hurried to look at her neck, and sure enough, bruises were forming. "Now listen here, I want that psycho expelled!"

"I cannot expel him." Mr. Wang said calmly.

"And how dare you suggest it?!" Katyusha said indignantly.

"It was your brother who hurt her!"

"Vanya doesn't know any better!"

"He's as old as my s-brother!"

"He didn't grow up the way you pampered Americans did!"

"I don't care!" Matthew hurled at her. "He hurt him! He hurt the only member of my family I have left!"

"Mattie…" Amelia said softly.

"Enough." Mr. Wang stood. "Enough of this, aru."

The arguing guardians paused and looked at the principal, chests heaving with barely restrained emotion, still clutching the shoulders of their respective charges defensively. Whatever Mr. Wang decided, they all knew that Amelia and Ivan would have to go along with it.

"They both must be punished." He said seriously. "I've been informed by a witness that Alfred struck first. However, aru, Ivan was strangling Alfred. I cannot allow either one of them to go off scot-free. Community service. They will come to school early and stay late, cleaning or doing whatever their teachers ask them to do. For one month."

"But Mr. Wang, the science-" Amelia began, but Mr. Wang held up a hand.

"I am sorry, Alfred, but you should have thought of that before you fought with Ivan. You will have to make time to do your project." Amelia hung her head as Mr. Wang continued. "Now, as for the rest of today, you may leave. Be here an hour before school starts to receive your assignments."

Ivan and Amelia nodded and stood, shrugging off the hands of their siblings.

"I can walk for myself, Katyusha." Ivan mumbled. Matthew wrinkled his brow as he looked over his shoulder at the two siblings. Pausing at the door, he turned around completely, ignoring Amelia's pleas to keep walking.

"What… did you say your name was…?"

The young woman looked slightly haughty as she answered. "Katyusha. Katyusha Braginsky."

Matthew's eyes lit up and he nodded. "Thank you. Thank you very much." He grabbed Amelia's hand, "Come on," and pulled her outside at a pace that was quicker than she expected.

"Mattie, what are you-?"

"No time to explain." He panted. "I've just thought of something… but… No… Still, there can't be that many people with that name…. It's been years… I just need to…" He trailed off as he fished his keys out of his pocket and handed them to her. "I have to go back to work, but I'll be home with dinner later. Stay safe."

He dashed off again, leaving Amelia to wonder if he had finally lost his mind.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Again, I apologize in the delay of updates. I've been quite busy and then I got sick, so I haven't been writing much. Well, I have. Just not this. But here, for your reading pleasure over Christmas break, is the latest in Amelia and Ivan's adventures.**

* * *

November came and with it, plenty of snow. Amelia found herself huddled in her father's bomber jacket as she did various tasks set by her teachers as part of her punishment. Luckily for her, Ivan seemed to be in another part of the building most of the time. Still, it was a lot harder for her to do her job with her lopsided, taped glasses. Her face and neck, still bruised, seemed to be a warning sign to others not to mess with her. Scars were helpful in a school this rough, and Amelia was somewhat thankful. She knew she wouldn't have to be, though, if she had just ignored Ivan's goading.

"Stupid, no good, f-"

"Are you sure you want to finish that sentence?"

She turned; it was Mr. Smith. She was so wrapped up in doing her job that she had almost forgotten where she was: the garage. Her teacher sat down in a swivel chair nearby.

"So," he said, folding his arms, "Got yourself into a bit of trouble, huh?"

"Would I be here otherwise?" She asked dully, wiping a smudge off of a mirror.

"I just thought you liked me."

She gave him a scathing look and he laughed. "All right, all right. So you picked a fight with Braginsky."

"In there a teacher in this place that doesn't know that psychopath?"

"He's on the special watch list."

She raised an eyebrow. "'Special watch list'?"

He nodded and pulled out a cigarette. "Kids that have problems adjusting to, well, whatever. Kids with depression, are bipolar-"

"People with mental issues?"

"And," he added, "People who may not have parents or guardians around all the time. You're on the list."

She pointed to herself. "Me?"

"Yep. The Alfred who is really an Amelia. Not to mention your parents' death."

"So, what's up with Ivan Braginsky?"

"That's confidential."

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "And that is what I figured."

"Smart kid."

She smiled begrudgingly. "Thanks."

He checked his phone as it beeped. "Well, you're done here. Can I give you a ride home?"

She was very embarrassed. "No, sir, that's okay. I can walk home…" She threw her dirtied rag in a basket by the door. "I'll be fine…"

He looked concerned, but allowed her to leave without further probing. She walked outside, shivering as snowflakes drifted past her face, landing on her shoulders and her hair.

"Hey, troublemaker!" It was Gilbert, Francis, Arthur, and the rest. They were all grinning in an embarrassed sort of way, even Lovino.

"What are you guys doing here?" She hurried down the steps to meet them.

"We're walking you home," Arthur said, "Duh."

"It's not fair that you have to be punished for being bullied." Lukas said in his quiet voice. She eyed him with curiosity, having never heard him say much. Berwald nodded.

"Even you two…" She said in wonder. If she had to pick out people who she was least close to, it would have to be those two, and maybe Lovino.

"We, um, we pooled our money together." Mathias said. "So… we're going to treat you and your brother to dinner."

She blinked several times. She had gone through many strange experiences in her short life, but this was probably in the top ten. "But…" She said blankly. "Why…?"

"Because, and I don't say this lightly, but…" Gilbert flashed her a smile. "You're pretty awesome."

"Wow, Gilbert." Antonio whistled. "You really mean that?"

"I said I didn't give it out lightly." He grumbled.

Amelia smiled and thumped Gilbert on the back. "Thanks. All of you."

"Well, you did survive a fight with Ivan Braginsky." Francis said. "That's quite a mean feat."

"He had it comin'." Berwald grunted. "Somethin' 'bout 'im ain't right."

They all looked at their tallest friend. He had a point, but they all knew that. Who didn't know that Ivan was a seriously messed up kid?

"His mom probably did drugs." Lovino said with a nasty look on his face. They all laughed, but even as she did so, Amelia felt a slight twinge of guilt. She brushed it off, and continued joking all the way back to her apartment.

* * *

Ivan watched Jones skip off with her friends with bitterness. She didn't have a care in the world. She had a brother who adored her, friends who loved her… and what did he have? Two dead parents and two obnoxious sisters. The only 'friends' he had were those that were too afraid to not be his friends. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed toward home.

The streets were barren and cold; a typical scene for New York City this late in the year. This November promised to be much colder than the last. How marvelous. He scowled. He hated winter. It reminded him of his home. Of Russia and his wonderful family. And now he was alone. He wasn't sure which was worse: the cold or the loneliness. He supposed it didn't matter; the point was that he was deeply unhappy. So, when he got home, he did what every other depressed teenager did: he decided to drink.

Ivan had been drinking since he was about 14 years old, under the watchful eye of Katyusha. Soon, though, he was tall enough (and intimidating enough) to go out and buy his own alcohol, this time keeping his sister in the dark. It didn't take much to procure a bottle of vodka, and because Katyusha was always busy, he was able to drink with ease. Far for clouding his mind, the liquor gave him a sense of clarity and he found he was able to forget his worries and his woes in order to focus on his school work. If he could get a scholarship, he could get out of this pit and go on to do great things. Move to a town where no one knew him and of his past and the people there would love him because he would become a famous doctor or lawyer or something else that small towns need and it would be warm and he would be happy and-

He shook his head and let himself into the apartment. He mustn't get too ahead of himself. He still had to graduate high school. Still, just thinking about making a plan cheered him up slightly. The small living space was blissfully free of feminine influence. Katyusha must have still been at work, and Natalya was with a friend or something. He didn't care, at least he could get drunk in peace. He slunk into his room, turned on his stereo (which was second hand from a junk shop, but miraculously worked), and grabbed a bottle hidden under his bed. He kicked his shoes off and flopped down on the crappy mattress, not bothering to take his coat or his scarf off. It was simply too cold in the apartment. Katyusha probably hadn't paid the bills. Why she insisted on working three jobs while Natalya and he worked none, he would never know. But she had been adamant on being the sole breadwinner of the family, and so they let her.

He took a moody swig of the bitter alcohol and sighed, his thoughts turning to Amelia Jones. His brow wrinkled. The name was so familiar. He could almost taste it along with the vodka. Just who was this girl, and why? Why did she continue to invade his thoughts when he would rather be left alone…?

* * *

"Aha!" Matthew was alone with his papers and documents and at last! At long last, he had figured out why the name was so familiar to him. "I can't believe it!" Now, he just had to tell Amelia and-

No… No, this was something for her to do on her own. Matthew shouldn't interfere. He knew that their mother would prefer it that way. As for Amelia's father, well… Matthew wasn't entirely sure what the man would think. He loved Amelia's father as his own, most definitely, ever since his real father had walked out on him and their mother way before Emily had even met Alfred. He had to admit, though, Matthew really didn't like Alfred at first. He was protective of his mother, remembering how depressed she had been when Matthew Sr. left. But Alfred had risen to the occasion, and married Emily when Matthew was nine years old. A year later, Amelia was born. Far from being worried about having the spotlight taken from him by another child, Matthew loved his little sister dearly, and took great pains to look after her, despite being 10 years apart.

Matthew shook his head, pulling himself out of the past. The more he thought about it, the closer it would bring him to that night, and he definitely didn't want to remember that. The wounds were still healing. He sighed and began packing up the documents. Now that he had found what he was looking for, he could take them back to the government building from which he had procured them. He looked at his watch while he worked. Amelia would be home soon, and probably very exhausted. She hardly spoke as of late, merely coming in, doing her homework and going to bed. He sometimes wondered if and when she ate. The resulting guilt of not knowing if she was eating made him pause. Surely she was remembering to eat and to take care of herself? He would ask when she got home.

As he was thinking this, there was a knock on the door. He wondered who it could be. People didn't often call on him, and it certainly couldn't be for Amelia. All her friends knew that she had been in trouble as of late. He opened the door and blinked.

"Hi, Mattie." Amelia said sheepishly. He wondered at first why she looked so nervous, but then he noticed the mass of people huddled behind her.

"A-Alfred… who are all these people?"

"Well, um, these are my friends. You've met most of them, and, um…"

"We were 'oping to take you and Alfred out for dinner, sir." Francis spoke up. "He is a remarkable young man and… He is one of us. We look after our own."

"So…" Amelia rocked back and forth on her heels. "Dinner, then?"

Numbly, Matthew nodded.

* * *

**A/N: So I gave you all a little bit of background information regarding Matthew's father, and Amelia's parents. I, um, I hope you all understood it. But here's a recap, just in case: Matthew Williams, Sr. left Emily (Amelia and Matthew's mother) when Matthew was about five. Two years later, Alfred Jones (Amelia's father) turns up and starts courting Emily. They get married and thus Amelia was born.**

**Also, I gave Berwald a bit of an accent... as you could all tell... Was that okay? I mean... I'm never really sure with accents, so...  
**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I'll probably skip Thanksgiving and go straight on to Christmas. I'm not sure how much longer this story is going to be, though...  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: So, I thought I'd fit another chapter in here before Christmas. And then maybe a Christmas chapter sometime after Christmas. I'm writing as fast as my mind will let me.**

* * *

Chapter 14

"Can we all even fit in here?" Amelia asked, standing outside the small diner with her arms folded.

"Of course we can!" Gilbert said, pushing the door open and leading them inside.

The space was quite cramped, but it was cozy. Glancing around, they headed for the biggest group of tables they could find. It was quite fortunate that they all fit.

"Thanks you guys." Matthew said. "For taking care of my s-brother."

"Matt…" Amelia mumbled, embarrassed.

"I mean it. I was really worried about you for a while there, kiddo." Matthew slung his arm across his little sister shoulder. She grinned somewhat reluctantly.

"It's the least we could do." Antonio said.

"He's made all of us... better, I think." Arthur said. "Alfred, you really are something special."

"Dude, quit hitting on me!" Amelia laughed, nudging him. He pushed her back, blushing slightly. Luckily, none of the others noticed.

"Hello, my name is Katyusha and I will be your waitress for this-" she cut off when she noticed Amelia and Matthew, and scowled. "-evening." She finished, clenching her teeth.

"Good evening, Katyusha." Matthew said pleasantly, eyes twinkling.

She merely nodded and took their drink orders, making careful note of each one as they were such a big group. Once she was done, she turned on her heel and stomped off.

"Wow. She's not very nice, huh?" Mathias pointed out.

"No…" Matthew mused, watching her. "I think I'll have a word with her." He stood and left the time, Amelia looking worried as he walked off.

"Miss Braginsky?" Matthew touched her shoulder just before she strode into the kitchen.

"What?" She said, somewhat annoyed.

"I have some information regarding your family."

She stiffened. "What do you know?"

"Quite a lot, actually. I'm surprised you don't recognize me. Though it has been years, hasn't it?"

"If you're going to speak in riddles, I'd rather you not speak to me at all." She pulled away from him, but he took hold of her arm and pulled her closer.

"Listen to me, Katyusha." He whispered in her ear. "I know who you are and where you are from. You do not remember me, which is understandable. I'm easily forgotten. My mother, however, isn't. I need to speak with you at length."

She hesitated, looking into his eyes, trying to detect a lie in them. Finding none, she nodded. "I get off soon. Probably as soon as you're all done eating."

He exhaled in relief. "Thank you, Katyusha."

She merely waved him off and continued on to the kitchen. Matthew returned to his seat and waved off any questions from Amelia and her friends. Katyusha brought the drinks, and everyone ordered their food. It took quite a few tries to make sure that she got them all right, but Katyusha worked tirelessly, knowing she would probably get quite a huge tip. The thought made her smile; whenever she had a little extra cash on her, she liked to give allowances to Ivan and Natalya.

Talk died down as everyone focused on their food. Halfway through, Lovino muttered something under his breath, prompting the entire table to look at him. He turned very red.

"Lovi?" Antonio asked. "What is it?"

"I said… We should do this more often… Like… maybe on a weekly or monthly basis."

"Good idea." Francis said.

Gilbert nodded. "Awesome."

The rest of the group nodded their own consent and it was decided: they would all make an effort to gather at least once a month till graduation. Then, they went back to eating.

Finally, as Lovino handed his clean plate to Katyusha , the bill was ready to be paid. As promised, all of the boys pooled their money together to pay for the meal. Matthew pulled out his own wallet, and placed a thirty dollar tip on the table.

"She worked hard, guys." He told them. "If you got spare change, I'd add it to this."

They all looked slightly humbled and dumped a mass of quarters, dimes, and nickels onto the three tens that Matthew had placed down.

"Also, if one of you could escort Alfred home." He said. "I have to have a word with our waitress."

"Matthew-"

"Go on." Matt said to her, nudging her out the door. "All of you. Go home, get some sleep."

They looked at Matthew for a moment before they all filed out, waving good bye to him. Amelia went her own way, but stopped when a hand grabbed her arm.

"Let me walk you home." Arthur said.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Yeah, okay."

Once the diner was empty, Katyusha slumped down in one of the booths, rubbing her eyes. Matthew slid in across from her.

"Rowdy bunch, huh?"

"I can't believe they're all the same age as Ivan."

"They're good kids. They really do care about my sister."

Katyusha tilted her head. "Sister?"

Matthew's eyes widened. "Shit. That… You weren't supposed to know that. Though… It is a good starting place."

"Alfred… isn't a boy?"

Matthew shook his head. "No. She isn't. Her name is Amelia Jones. I'm Matthew Williams. And our mother? Emily Jones."

Katyusha gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "Matvey? Is it really you?"

He smiled. "Yeah, Kat. It's me."

She smiled, trembling slightly. "Oh, Matvey it is good to see you again, so good. I am sorry for what happened between our siblings. So that was little Amelia? She packs quite a punch. Ivan's face is rather bruised."

"So is Amelia's neck."

Her face fell. "I am sorry. He… ever since he realized that he wouldn't get to stay with Amelia, he has shut himself off. From everything. But I know, Matvey. I know that he is a good person."

"I believe you. And it's killing me that they've forgotten each other!"

She nodded. "We have to tell them."

Matthew sighed. "We can't. In good conscience, I cannot tell them, Katyusha. They need to figure this out for themselves."

"When did you find out, anyway?"

"When you told me your full name, in the school office a few weeks ago. Then I did some digging, found out exactly what happened to you guys. I'm so sorry. It must have been tough."

"We were in an orphanage until I was 18." Katyusha said. "No one would adopt all of us together, and Ivan refused to leave my side. When she was old enough, Natalya refused to leave Ivan's side. So, we stayed together."

"That must have been tough." Matthew said, placing a comforting hand on hers. "I'm sorry."

"It's quite all right." Katyusha responded. "Really. It was hard, but I'd like to think I did a good job in raising them. Natalya is… distant from everyone except Ivan, and Ivan… Well… I've said before. I think he has good in him, despite how cold he can be."

"You're incredible." Matthew said quietly.

"And what about you, Matvey?"

"Me?"

"Why are you and Amelia here in Queens?"

"Ah." He paused.

"And given where you've chosen to dine…" Katyusha's eyes grew wide with realization. "Matvey, what happened?"

Matthew swallowed, closing his eyes. "There was a car accident. It was raining, the other driver was… drunk, and Amelia… Amelia was the only one to survive."

Katyusha covered her mouth again, this time in horror. "Oh, Matvey… I'm so… so sorry. That… She must remember everything about what happened… Ivan was too young at the time to really understand what happened to our parents, and Natalya wasn't even born when our father died…"

She got up from her seat and moved to the side of the booth that Matthew was on. She wrapped her arms around her and pulled him close. He hugged her back, sighing. They were both so tired. Working all the time to take care of their siblings. They were just kids, really. Kids that got roped into being parents. It wasn't their fault, and they couldn't change it, but they could both read the other, and they knew. It was doubly hard on Katyusha, who never even got a chance to further her education.

"What did you give up, Matvey?" She whispered.

"I was almost done with college. I was so close. Then they died and I had to come back. I couldn't just leave her there. She didn't belong in that town without her parents."

"I didn't realize how much I resented having to be a mother until tonight."

"Some days are okay." Matthew reasoned, tucking Katyusha's head under his chin and rubbing her shoulders. "But a lot of them are hard. Raising kids… I can't even imagine what you've had to go through."

"You had to give up a degree!" Katyusha said, pulling away to look him in the eye. "You could have had a far more successful career than… whatever it is you…"

He smiled sheepishly. "I'm a receptionist."

She stuck her tongue out. "Ew."

He nodded. "It's not so bad. We have some money saved for Amelia to go to college, but we're hoping for a scholarship. She's applied to quite a few. The Science Scholarship is the one she's aiming for. She wants to be an engineer."

"That's great!" She smiled. "Ivan says he wants to be a doctor or a lawyer. Something that will challenge his mind."

"He's a smart kid, huh?"

"He's very bright. Always has been. But he hides behind such an aura of menace."

"I noticed. Is that the same scarf?"

"Every year he grew, I would ad length to it for him."

"You're incredible." He said again.

Katyusha's phone beeped. She pulled it out and read the text swiftly before standing and untying her apron. "I have to go, I'm afraid." She said. "It's been lovely seeing you again, though."

Matthew stood as well. "Likewise. I suppose I should let Ivan come over. They're in the science fair together after all."

"That would be great." Katyusha smiled faintly. "It would be a load off of my shoulders, anyway."

He nodded and gave her a quick hug before disappearing out on the cold street, where snow was once again cascading from the sky.


	15. Chapter 15

**Merry Christmas! Don't worry. I'll have an actual Christmas chapter sometime later in the week!**

* * *

"So, your brother seems pretty cool with, well, all of us." Arthur said to Amelia as they made their way back to her apartment.

"I s'pose." She shrugged, shivering in her coat. "God, why is so freaking cold!?" She moaned, hopping along in an effort to warm her feet.

"It's November and we're in New York." Arthur laughed. "And I don't think impersonating the Easter Bunny is going to help."

She stopped hopping to glare at him. "So what?"

He shrugged. "Just saying."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll bet if you hopped more, you'd be happier."

He took a step back. "Amelia, don't you-"

She grabbed his hand and began hopping again, causing Arthur to trip on his feet. "Amelia! Stop!"

"Nope! Come on, Kirkland!"

With a very embarrassed look on his face, Arthur hopped a little ways forward. Amelia beamed at him and he had to duck his head to avoid her gaze.

"See?" She said. "It's not that bad."

"I guess…" He muttered, taking another jump. "But it is tiring."

"Huh…" She fell still. "You're right. It kind of is tiring."

"Let's just walk normally?" He suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, all right." She kept hold of his hand as they strolled along. Arthur tightened his grip ever so slightly. Amelia noticed, but didn't say anything. As a matter of fact, she quite enjoyed it.

They continued on in silence the rest of the way to Amelia's apartment. The snow drifted down, throwing out sparkling reflections as it caught in the light of streetlamps.

"It'll be Christmas soon." Arthur said, leading her up the stairs of the building.

"It's not even Thanksgiving yet!"

"Well, it will be soon."

"You're a holiday nut?" She asked skeptically.

He chuckled. "Uh… Maybe?"

She shook her head. "Never would've pegged you for it."

"Well, I never would've pegged you for someone to pretend to be something they're not."

"Oh, that again?"

It had become a common argument. Arthur didn't see why Amelia was so insistent on keeping her identity a secret. In reality, Amelia had become quite comfortable in men's clothes, and while she didn't feel completely okay with lying to her friends day after day, she had to admit she felt a certain thrill every time she pulled the wool over their eyes once again. Every single day, she was tricking them, and she could be exposed at any moment, but that was part of the fun.

Amelia unlocked the door and turned to Arthur. "Well, thanks for walking me home."

Arthur shifted awkwardly. "Um… Could I stay…? For a bit?"

She tilted her head. "Why?"

"Allistor and I got into a fight…"

She bit her lip. "I don't know… you should probably go and make peace with him…"

"Please, Amelia?"

Amelia looked at him, and was surprised to see him making the puppy dog eyes. Very convincing puppy dog eyes. She sighed and pushed the door open. "Come on. I'll make some cocoa."

He smiled softly and followed her inside. "Thanks."

"I guess it's not a problem." She muttered, setting her jacket down on the kitchen table. Arthur pulled off his threadbare pea coat and set it on the couch. He threw himself down next to his coat and watched her.

"You know…" He said. "I'm surprised that everyone hasn't figured it out yet."

She turned sharply. "What?"

He shifted awkwardly. "I said that I'm surprised that everyone hasn't figured it out yet. That you're really a girl!"

"Why is that so surprising?" she asked, putting a mug of milk in the microwave. "Do I look like a girl?"

Arthur blushed. "Y-Yes. You do."

"Huh…" She brushed it off. "It's probably just because you know I'm a girl."

"That might be it…" He mused, furrowing his brow.

Amelia pulled the mug of milk out of the microwave and a dumped a packet of cocoa into the cup. "Anyway, does it matter? You and Ivan are the only two who know who I really am. Though, I'd like that list shortened to just you." She sighed and walked over to him to hand him the cocoa. "Here."

"Thanks." He mumbled, taking a sip. His eyes widened. "Wow, this is really good!"

"Really? It's just instant cocoa." She sat down in a chair, facing him. "Nothing special."

"On the contrary." Arthur responded, taking another sip. "It's… I just like it, okay? Take the compliment!"

She stuck her tongue out him. "Fine. Thank you for the compliment."

He smirked. "You're welcome."

He finished the cocoa and set the cup down on the table. Silence fell in the small living space, broken only by the occasional sigh. Neither Arthur nor Amelia was uncomfortable, however, as they were able to enjoy each other's company in the quiet.

After several minutes, though, Arthur shifted a little closer to Amelia's chair.

"Hey, um, Amy?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever, uh, kissed anyone before?"

She looked at him in surprise. "No. There was never anyone in my old town that I liked enough to kiss."

"You didn't do it just… do it?"

"I'm going to assume that you are still talking about kissing and say no. I never kissed anyone just to kiss them. I want my first kiss to be special. Why do you ask?"

"I was just… wondering…" He muttered.

"Arthur, do you want to kiss me?"

He jumped. "What?! No! No… Um… You're one of the guys, right? So… no kissing…"

Amelia nodded. "R-Right… yeah, sure…"

Arthur stood and grabbed his coat. "Well, I suppose I'd better go."

"Oh!" Amelia stood as well. "Yeah…"

She walked with him to the door. "Thanks for walking me home."

"No problem…" He was focusing hard on buttoning his coat, but had done it up wrong, making the coat lopsided.

She rolled her eyes. "Good grief, you're hopeless." She undid the buttons and redid them for him.

"Am not." He muttered. She looked up at him with a soft smile. He blushed brightly, but was unable to tear his eyes away from hers.

"You're red." She told him. "Why?"

He mumbled something under his breath, glancing away.

"What?" She leaned closer. "I couldn't hear you…"

"I said, because you're beautiful…" He reached up and pushed her hair out of her face before cupping her cheek. "Do you… am I good enough to have your first kiss?"

"Arthur, what-?"

"Amelia, please!" His eyes grew panicked. "I really like you and I just…"

Amelia was speechless, her face a red to rival Arthur. After running through several ideas through her head, she leaned up and gave him a very soft kiss. When she pulled away, he was blinking rapidly.

"I… Thank you, Amy."

She shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is. That wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be."

He thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, you know, you're right. I mean… I thought maybe… you and me… if no one found out…"

She nodded. "But… I kind of thought there would be a spark when we kissed and…"

"There wasn't one." He had to agree.

"But you're still my best friend."

"Oh, most definitely!" Arthur nodded.

They were hugging just as Matthew came up the stairs. "What's going on, you guys?"

"We made a few discoveries about the importance of kissing." Amelia said brightly.

Matthew turned red and started spluttering. Arthur took the time to excuse himself while the man was becoming apoplectic with rage.

* * *

**I am so sorry about the USUK thing, but as you can all see, IT IS A MUTUAL UNATTRACTION TO EACH OTHER AS ROMANTIC PARTNERS!**


	16. Chapter 16

**As promised, here is a somewhat Christmas-y chapter. I did my best. **

* * *

****Chapter 16

With all the time she spent in detention, not to mention her homework load, November seemed to fly by to Amelia. She barely noticed when Thanksgiving break came up. Matthew asked her if she wanted to do anything special. She said no. In reality, she really wanted to visit her parents' graves, but she hadn't been since the accident, back in May. She wasn't entirely sure she was ready to see the place where her parents were laid to rest.

"Is it really December?" She asked, slouching against the side of a car her and Gilbert were working on.

"Ja." Gilbert replied, polishing a mirror. "Why is that so surprising?"

"I guess it's not." She muttered.

"I suppose it would be common courtesy to ask you if you're doing anything for Christmas…"

"I'm not." She said vaguely, folding her arms.

"Huh?"

"I'm not doing anything for Christmas."

"Oh."

Gilbert tinkered with something in the engine, and resumed talking. "My vati was talking about visiting family members back home, in Germany."

Amelia raised her eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Came the muffled reply. Gilbert leaned around the propped up hood to look at her. "You have any family to visit?"

"No." She said curtly.

The bell rang and she bolted out of the garage, pausing only to shed her jumpsuit. Gilbert had been drifting into highly dangerous territory. Not that he knew it. She ducked into an unused, empty classroom in an effort to regain her breath. She paused when she heard shifting behind her.

"Are you cutting class, malytuka?" Amelia could practically hear the smirk in Ivan's voice.

"No." She said, using the same tone she had used on Gilbert mere moments ago. She turned around to face him. He was lounging in a chair, his bag resting on the desk in front of him. "But I bet you were. You spent all of first hour here, didn't you?"

He shrugged. "I think that is none of your business."

"I never said it was, but now that we finally have some free time after school, I was hoping we could work on our science project."

He leaned back and yawned. "Frankly, I do not care about this project."

"Well, I do! I don't want to be stuck in the shittiest part of Queens for the rest of my life!"

"As if a silly little science project would help you out of here."

"It certainly would! I don't like working with you anymore than you like working with me. But I'm trying to do the mature thing and set aside my burning fucking hatred for you."

"I am glad the feeling is mutual." He scowled.

The bell rang, signifying that they were late. Amelia groaned. "Kirkland is going to kill me."

She turned to leave, but was stopped when Ivan grabbed her arm. She was surprised by how quickly Ivan could me. Another moment, and she was spun around, both of her wrists caught in one of his hands.

"Who are you, Amelia Jones?" His eyes had a manic gleam in them, and Amelia was frightened. As she was not looking for a fight, though, she tried to remain calm.

"That's just it. That's all I am. Amelia Jones." She wriggled her arms, but Ivan's grip was too tight.

"Then why?" He dropped her hands and she staggered back. "Why can't I get you out of my head?"

"I-I don't understand." She pressed her back against the door. She wanted to run; Ivan was scaring her. But as he kept talking, Amelia found herself more intrigued.

"You are in my dreams, Jones, and I can't stand it. I can't stand you. That much is clear…" He was pacing, now. "I hate you. You, quite frankly, repulse me."

"Gee, thanks."

"And yet, I can't help but feel as if I've met you before you decided to show up."

"Show up?" Amelia spluttered. "My parents died and my brother and I couldn't afford to keep the garage. What the fuck makes you think I want to be here?"

"Shut up!" He punched the door, coming close to her head. "Stop speaking in your stupid American accent. Stop talking as if you are a man. You are not. You are a silly, little girl who irks me beyond belief. I was perfectly content with running this school, but then you come along-"

"This is public high school, not the Soviet Union!"

"You do love pulling the communist card, don't you?" He put his face close to hers. "But I know things about your nation that would make your skin crawl."

She shuddered visibly, eyes wide with fear. The rational part of her brain was studying Ivan. He looked pale (even more so than usual) and he had deep shadows under his eyes. No wonder he sounded so strained. He probably hadn't been getting much sleep.

"Ivan, what time did you go to bed last night?" She asked, her voice a whisper.

"I didn't." He mumbled, slumping forward, his body crashing against Amelia's. She just managed to catch him before he could fall. His eyes were closed. She couldn't believe this. The idiot had fallen asleep, practically on top of her! She pulled his arm over her shoulder and managed to drag him back to his chair.

"Completely hopeless." She muttered. "He's going to get in trouble again."

She leaned against another desk that was nearby. He didn't look half as scary when he was asleep. With him looking so vulnerable, Amelia had to wonder why she was even afraid of Ivan. Timidly, she reached out and brushed hair from his eyes. She paused as she drew her hand back. Why did she do that? And why was her heart pounding so loudly in her ears? She stood up straight and began backing out quietly. Let him get busted, she reasoned. It was no skin off her nose. She opened the door carefully and slid out of the room before bustling to English.

* * *

"Amelia, what do you want for Christmas?" She looked up from her homework that was spread out in front of her. Matthew was peering down at her worriedly.

"Matthew, you know I don't want anything."

"I was going to get you new glasses, which you need, but I want to get you something that you want."

"I don't want anything."

"I could splurge for contacts."

"I don't want contacts."

Matthew sighed, frustrated. "I feel like I'm failing as an older brother."

She turned her attention back to the calculus problem she was working on. "You're not."

"Well, I feel like it."

"Well, you're not."

They went back and forth like that for several minutes before Amelia slammed her math book shut. "Stop it, Mattie. I don't want anything for Christmas. We don't have the money."

"But I've been saving and-"

"Then you know what I want?" She packed up her book bag and slung it over her shoulder. "I want you to take that money and go back to school. Get a degree. I don't care what school, just do it." She disappeared into her bedroom, slamming the door shut.

Matthew sighed and leaned back on the couch. School? Of course she wanted him to go back. She was so excited when he got accepted into the last college he was at. He smiled. She was just a little kid back then, barely in middle school. The world seemed a little brighter then, a little kinder. Matthew looked at the bare walls of the dirty home he shared with his half-sister. Amelia had refused to put up any pictures of their parents. She was trying so hard to be strong, thinking that forgetting about it would bring her strength. Matthew had to disagree, and was painfully wishing that he could look up at the wall and see his mother's face.

* * *

"Merry Christmas! Have a good break!"

"Merry Christmas!"

The calls drifted down the hallways of the school on the last day of break. Amelia hurried to her fifth period class, so fed up with the Christmas cheer. She got to her seat just as the bell was ringing. Ivan raised an eyebrow at her almost tardiness, but did not comment on it as Mrs. Snow passed out their final exam.

"Good luck." Amelia said, picking up her pencil.

He hesitated. "Um… Yes. Good luck to you too."

Why was she being so nice to him? Was she trying to mess with him? Lately, Jones had been being uncharacteristically kind with him. Not rising to his bait, taking his math homework from him and showing him where he went wrong (often without his permission. Still, he was grateful), and allowing him to come over so that they could work on their project together. Though, he suspected that that had to do more with the fact that Katyusha was dating her brother. She claimed that they weren't, but he didn't believe her.

An hour and a half later, the exam period was up, as was the school day itself.

"Don't forget to work on your projects over break!" Mrs. Snow called. "I realized it's a holiday, but a little extra work never hurt anyone. The fair is a month away!"

There was a general chatter of assent before she let them go. The rest of the students filed out, but Ivan and Amelia moved slowly.

"So… Merry Christmas…" She said, feeling awkward.

"You too."

"You doing anything over break?"

"Not really."

"Good."

He raised an eyebrow. She blushed. "Not because I want to hang out with you! I just think it's good that we'll both have some spare time."

"Ah… for the project, da?"

"Da- I mean, yes."

He smirked and stood. He waved to her sarcastically, calling out, "Merry Christmas, Alfred."

She rolled her eyes. "I can't stand him."

Mrs. Snow chuckled. "Yes, you can. I can see it."

She eyed her chemistry teacher warily. "See what?"

"You two are getting along a lot better now. That's just really good."

"Why…?"

"Because I have high hopes for you two." Mrs. Snow tutted a bit while she packed up her brief case. Amelia never did understand why teachers had brief cases and students had back packs.

"Meaning…?" _If she wants me and him to hook up, I'm going to hurl_, Amelia thought.

"Meaning that I think you and he have a really good project idea and it is going to be a great presentation." She explained patiently.

Amelia's mouth formed a little 'o' of surprised. Mrs. Snow waited for her student to recover from whatever shock had caused her to gape like a monkey at a banana.

"That… makes sense." Amelia said finally.

"Indeed." Mrs. Snow grabbed her coat and pulled it on. "Well, then, I will see you next semester."

"Merry Christmas." Amelia went out the classroom door first so that Mrs. Snow could lock it.

"And a merry Christmas to you too, dear."

Amelia smiled and scurried down the staircase and out the front door. It was snowing again and the frozen air burned her throat. Still, she kept smiling, simply because she just felt good. Maybe it was the snow, or her going a day without bickering with Ivan, but she was just… happy. Happier than she was in a long time.

* * *

A few days later, Matthew and Amelia sat in front of a tiny, plastic Christmas tree. Underneath it were several brightly wrapped packages.

"I can't believe you got me stuff. I said I didn't want stuff."

He grinned and passed her most of the boxes. There was one left that was crudely wrapped in newspaper and topped with a withered bow.

"I thought I was the only one to…" Matthew furrowed his brow. He read the label before looking at his sister in surprise.

"I wanted to get you something too, okay?"

"What is it?"

She rolled her eyes. "Open it, stupid."

He leaned over to muss up her hair before unwrapping the present. "Oh, wow!" Matthew smiled broadly. "This is great! Where did you find it?"

"Book shop down the street had it."

Still smiling, Matthew took his new copy of _The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe _and set it on the small bookshelf they had set up in a corner.

"I know it's not a lot, but…"

"It's awesome." He said. "Now, open your gifts."

A coat, new glasses, contact lenses, and two notebooks later, the living room was completely covered in wrapping paper. She rolled her eyes each time she opened a gift, but Matthew was so excited for her that she couldn't help but smile. He was so pleased to have been able to buy things for his sister.

After she carried her new things to her room and traded her taped glasses for the new ones, Amelia cleaned up the wrapping paper, and restored general order to the living room.

"What do you want for dinner?" She asked, sitting down in the arm chair.

"I'm not sure."

"Can we order pizza?"

"Amelia, I don't think there are any pizza places open."

"Will you try?"

He sighed, grabbing the phone book. "I guess…"

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

Matthew rolled his eyes while Amelia grabbed some money from his wallet. "Hey! That's mine!"

Amelia stuck her tongue out at him and went to open the door. "I know it is." She turned to the pizza boy. "Thanks for working on Christmas." She handed him the money. "Have a good one."

"You too, sir." He responded, hurrying away from the doorstep to get back to his warm car.

Matthew looked at her, his face turning red.

"Don't you dare laugh."

He bit his sleeve and started shaking.

"Matthew Williams!" She slammed the door shut with a kick and set the pizza box down on the table. "If you laugh, I swear that you will not get a single bite of this pizza."

He sobered up a bit and joined her at the table. She kept her hand firmly on the top of the box. "Get some plates."

He nodded and did as she instructed, pulling two plates down and setting them on the table before sitting down himself.

"Pizza for Christmas dinner…" Matthew shook his head. "You know what Mom would-"

"Yes. I do." She cut him off and put a slice of pizza on her plate. "Now shut up and eat."

"Yes, ma'am."


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: After a month and a half long unofficial hiatus, I'm back friends! I really am sorry that I haven't updated, especially since this chapter is another Christmas one! I'll be moving on to their second semester in the next chapter, I think. Thank you all for waiting so patiently. I hope it was worth the wait!**

* * *

Chapter 17

"Merry Christmas, Vanya."

Ivan sighed and marked the page of his book. "Merry Christmas, Katyusha."

They did not have a tree, and Ivan was pretty sure that they didn't have any gifts either. Still, his sister was known for surprises. Even Natalya emerged from the bedroom to see what their sister had come up with.

Katyusha smoothed her skirt nervously and pulled out two presents from a underneath the sink. Due to chronic leakage, she had them wrapped in plastic.

"I know things have been tight lately, but I wanted to make sure you guys had a nice Christmas. Especially you, Ivan. Since your birthday is so soon."

"Big sister-" Natalya began.

"Hush, please, Natalya. You know I do not ask much of you, so please." Katyusha looked at Natalya. "Please just let me speak."

Natalya looked down, almost properly ashamed.

"Thank you." She smiled at her little sister before continuing. "I know that we haven't had much money, but that's fine. Really, I believe there is more to life than being rich. But I wanted to make sure my children- I mean, you guys got nice gifts."

She handed one present to Natalya and the other to Ivan. They both looked up at Katyusha before carefully peeling away the wrapping paper. Upon seeing the dress that Katyusha made for her, Natalya gave one of her rare smiles. Ivan's face remained impassive as he unwrapped his gift. It was a new computer. A new model laptop, and one that he wanted desperately for months.

"Katyusha, I-"

"I know it's not much, but…" She shrugged.

He sat the laptop to the side before standing and hugging her. She stiffened; Ivan hadn't hugged her in years. She sniffed heartily and hugged him back, hiding her face in his chest. Over Katyusha's shoulder, Ivan beckoned for Natalya to join them. She folded her dress back up and shuffled over, nervous. They were not a touchy-feely family in any way, shape, or form, but it was Christmas after all. Ivan took one arm off of Katyusha to bring Natalya into the huddle. Katyusha was practically shaking with sobs, she was so happy.

Very carefully, Ivan lowered her to the floor and cradled her head to his chest. Natalya rested at his side, hugging his arm. "I love my dress…" She muttered. Katyusha gave a small chuckle.

"I'm glad. It took me most of the year to make it…"

"And yet you finished it?"

"A few days ago. It was hard without your measurements, but I think it will fit just fine."

"Thank you, sister."

"It was fun to make. I was happy to make it." Katyusha paused. "And now I have a request of you. Both of you."

Natalya looked up at Ivan, who raised his eyebrows. "Yes, Katyusha?"

"I… I know it has been years, but would you both come to mass with me this evening?"

The younger siblings exchanged glances. When Ivan turned thirteen, he had stopped going. Katyusha made Natalya come until she was thirteen as well. Neither had been since. She asked them to come with her once a year, every year, on Christmas, and they always said no. But when Ivan's eyes met Natalya's, they both knew that this one time they couldn't say no.

"Of course we will come, Katyusha."

She pulled away from Ivan, tears shining in her eyes. "Oh, thank you! Both of you!"

She grabbed both of them and pulled them to her chest. They gave similar noises of surprise and discomfort before allowing the tension the leave their bodies, resting against her. The three of them remained still for quite some time before Katyusha released them.

They stood, dusted themselves off and helped their sister off of the floor. "I'll start making dinner." She said to them, still smiling.

"Do you…" Natalya looked down. "Should we help…?"

"Oh! Um…" Katyusha looked back and forth at them. "Well, neither of you have to, but if you wish to assist, then you may."

Natalya looked a little happier and joined the older woman in the kitchen. "Ivan? What are you going to do?"

Ivan glanced from his new laptop to his two sisters. Neither option seemed particularly appealing to him at the moment, so he grabbed his jacket. "I will go for a walk. I will be back in time for dinner, though."

They nodded and he left, closing the door with a sharp snap. The cold air blew up the building as he made his way down the steps. Half way out of the building, he ran into Tino.

"Hey." Ivan said, slightly uneasy.

"Hello, Ivan!" The shorter boy said cheerfully. "Merry Christmas!"

"Yeah, merry Christmas." He mumbled back.

"Oh!" Tino dug around in the bag he was carrying. "Here, I got you something!"

"What?" Ivan was taken aback. "But…"

"I know you've done some things you aren't… proud of." Tino said. "But Christmas is a time of forgiveness and joy!" He handed Ivan the gift.

Ivan looked it over pensively. What had Tino thought to get him? He unwrapped it carefully. It was a book. That was unusual. Not that Ivan didn't like to read, but he just didn't expect a book as a present. It was beautifully bound and written in Russian.

"Tino, where did you find this?"

He shrugged. "I know people."

"Right…" They reached the street and Tino turned to the left. "Where are you going?" Ivan asked.

"I have some people to see." Tino smiled. "It was nice seeing you, though."

"Was it?"

Tino nodded. "You're scary. But I think that you have a good heart."

Ivan blinked as Tino turned away. More than getting presents from his family or friends, those kind words were what made Ivan happy. And as the warm feeling spread through his chest, he thought of Amelia, and how he would get to see her and work with her. It was strange, that he should think of her. He was doing that more and more often… He shook his head and walked through the streets, ignoring the cold and snow as he did so.

He returned in time for dinner, which was laid out on the table. The whole apartment smelled wonderful.

"This looks great, Katyusha. Natalya." He hesitated slightly before kissing both of them on the cheek. Katyusha smiled and patted his head while Natalya blushed faintly.

They sat down to dinner and Katyusha blessed the meal with a prayer. As she was putting food on their plates, she spoke excitedly about their plans for that evening.

"It really is quite a lovely little church, and Father Craig is so kind. We've spoken often and he will be so excited to meet you both."

Ivan and Natalya let their sister prattle on, happy that she was in such high spirits. Once they were done eating, Ivan insisted that they go get ready for mass while he cleaned. It was only fair, since they did all the work to make the meal and he just wandered aimlessly.

He finished up just as Katyusha came out of the bedroom and Natalya came out of the bathroom.

"Go and get ready, Ivan." Katyusha told him gently, taking the wash cloth from his hand. "I will finish in here."

"Are you sure?" He asked.

She nodded and shooed him off to his bedroom. He changed his clothes quickly before going into the apartment's tiny bathroom and combing his hair. Katyusha knocked on the door as he was brushing his teeth.

"Ivan!" She called through the thin wood. "Hurry up. We need to go!"

"Coming!" He said back thickly. He spat in the sink and rinsed his mouth before flipping off the light and leaving the bathroom.

Katyusha and Natalya were waiting by the door for Ivan to join them. Natalya handed Ivan his coat and scarf with a faint smile and, once bundled against the cold of New York, they sat off to worship a god that Ivan was not entirely sure even existed.


	18. Chapter 18

Amelia double checked her schedule as she walked into the school building, shivering as the wind battered her coat and whipped up eddies of snow. She still had auto shop first period, and English second period, but her European history class was replaced by sociology. Not wanting to have two study hall periods, she had picked the class on whim. The same went for the psychology class that replaced her weight training class. She talked to Matthew a lot about what classes she should take during the last semester of her high school career. He told her that maybe she should pick something Mom or Al would've wanted her to do. It was really that easy. Now she just had a few more months and she would graduate.

She saw friends, waved, and sighed inwardly. She was happy that people talked to her and seemed to like her, but she wanted another friend. A girlfriend. Someone who could come over and they could talk about boys or whatever it was the normal girls did. She opened her locker and rested her head against the shelf that was inside. It was the first time all school year that she admitted to herself that she wanted someone she could be girly with. Arthur didn't really count, since he was a boy. She shook her head and hung up her coat. Her thoughts were running in circles on a pointless topic and she needed to stop. Fortunately, she was broken from her reverie by the smack to the back of the head.

"Yo, Jones! Snap out of it!" Gilbert grinned down at her with his dark eyes.

She rolled her eyes. "You're lucky I didn't just pummel you. You scared the shit out of me."

"Better change your pants then." He said back, grin widening.

She laughed. "You know what I meant."

He flung an arm around her shoulders and directed her toward the school's garage. "So, did you come in at all over break?"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "No, I didn't. Why? Were we supposed to?"

"Nah. I did because I wanted to work on the car some more."

"Really?"

"Hell, yeah, I did!" He pulled his arm away from her to open the door. "It's gotten really good!"

"Gil, did you leave any work for me to do?"

He blinked at her. "Yeah. And don't call me Gil."

She tilted her head. It was the first mention that he didn't like the nickname. "All right."

A strange look crossed his face. He looked almost regretful. "Sorry if I came off as, you know, rude."

She was surprised at his apology, but accepted it. "It's cool, man." She went and pulled her jumpsuit on just as Mr. Smith entered the room.

"Right, everyone here? Good. Well, as you know, we're working on cars. So just keep working. Holler if you need something."

Gilbert put his jumpsuit on, muttering under his breath all the while. Amelia picked up bits and pieces. She was pretty sure she heard the words useless father and fucking Braginsky. Whatever the hell happened to Gilbert over break, it was affecting him badly.

* * *

_"Go away, Gil!" Elizabeta kept her voice to a whisper, but it was enough that Gilbert could hear her._

_"Dammit, Liz, I won't! You know how I feel about you!"_

_"And I told you, I can't be with you!"_

_"Why not? We used to be friends when we were little…" It started snowing again as Elizabeta turned back to him._

_"Ivan got to me first, Gilbert. He threatened them."_

_"That's-"_

_"I have to protect Roderich! I told Vash that I would…"_

_"But now you're running around doing everything that Natalya and Ivan ask you to do!"_

_"If that's the price I pay for his safety, then so be it. And you know what he'll do to you if he finds out about us…"_

_"And to you…" Gilbert muttered._

_"Gil…" Elizabeta closed the space between them and took his hand. "I'm sorry. I know this is just high school, and we're just kids, but Ivan is manipulative and dangerous… And I'm under his control. You're lucky he didn't get you."_

_"You've always been so independent, though…" Gilbert couldn't, or wouldn't, meet her eyes. "… I just don't understand…"_

_"Because Roderich is important to me, too."_

_"As…"_

_"Just friends. You know that we dated and you know it didn't work out…"_

_"Because of Ivan?"_

_"No. Because of me. He's too refined. He needs protection. You know that. You do too."_

_Gilbert threw Elizabeta's hand down and turned away. "Like I need some chick protecting me!"_

_"Gil…" Again, she reached for him. "I'm protecting you by not being around you."_

_He turned back and blushed as she placed a cold, chapped hand on his cheek. "W-What?"_

_"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we can't be together. You know how I feel too. But he would find out. He'd tell my father! You know I can't have that…"_

_He pulled her close, entwining his finger in her soft brown hair. "He'd hurt you again."_

_She clutched the front of his jacket and nodded._

_"First your dad… now Ivan… And both of them at once? Liz…"_

_"It's just for a few more months… Then I'll go to college."_

_"And leave me behind?"_

_"You could go to college-"_

_"You know I'm not smart enough."_

_She scowled up at him. "You are too."_

_He shrugged. "Maybe."_

_She shook her head. "You're one of the smartest people I know."_

_"When it come to juvenile acts of violence, yeah."_

_"Shut up!"_

_He looked down, surprised. "Yeah, okay. Shutting up."_

_"You are the smartest, most talented, and ingenious person I know."_

_His blush came back. "T-Thanks… It takes skill to be this awesome, you know?"_

_She chuckled. "Yeah."_

_"Liz?"_

_"Yeah, Gil?"_

_"I'm joining the military."_

_She looked at him and nodded. "Marines, right?"_

_"Right. I'm going to be a mechanic."_

_"They'll still send you to fight…"_

_He hugged her tightly without looking at her, staring into the mixture of darkness and light that made up New York City. "I know."_

_Elizabeta rested her head more fully on Gilbert's chest. "Okay… Just… stay safe for me."_

_"'Course I will. You know me."_

_"Dangerously reckless?"_

_He chuckled. "I was going to say level-headed and smooth."_

_She let out a short burst of laughter before covering her hands with her mouth. But it was too late._

_"LIZZIE!" The sound exploded from the apartment complex, causing them both to jump._

_"I have to go…" She told Gilbert._

_"GET YOUR SLUTTY ASS IN HERE! I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN FUCKING THAT ALBINO FREAK!"_

_"Come with me!" He seized her hand._

_"I can't."_

_"Please. I'll take care of you!"_

_A large man came thudding out of the building. "LIZZIE! IF YOU DON'T COME OUT RIGHT NOW YOU'RE IN FOR ONE HELL OF A BEATING!"_

_Elizabeta turned back to Gilbert and kissed him desperately, but briefly, before running inside before her father could find them together_

* * *

"Gilbert!"

Amelia's voice woke the albino from his reverie. "Yeah…?"

"The bell's about to ring, and you've been polishing the same mirror this entire time!"

"Oh." He dropped the rag. "Sorry."

"You okay, man?" He looked so different from the guy who joked around with her this morning.

"Yeah, Al. I'm fine."

Amelia nodded. "Okay. If you say so."

"I do say so." He gave a rather weak grin that Amelia didn't return.

Gilbert stripped down to his normal clothing without a word. When the bell rang, he left without glancing back to see if Amelia had cleaned up properly.

* * *

"Are you even paying attention to what you're typing?" Ivan asked, in a somewhat superior tone.

"Yeah, I am!" Amelia replied indignantly, rewriting the sentence.

"You know that the science fair is less than a month away?"

"You do it then!"

He pushed her away from the computer. "My pleasure." He began re-reading what Amelia had written while she watched. After a moment he pushed himself away from the computer, chuckling softly.

"What?" She asked, folding her arms.

"There is nothing here that I would change. Good job."

She looked at him suspiciously. "You sure?"

He nodded. "I mean what I say. I could not put it better myself."

She nodded and saved the file. "Good."

He grinned. "So, when are you going to tell all of your friends?"

"About what?" She said, knowing full well what.

"You know exactly what I mean."

"I'll tell them when the school year is over or… something." She muttered.

He tsk'd at her. "Such a shame to waste potential beauty."

She gave a hollow laugh. "Yeah. Right. I'm such a babe."

"I would not speak is so crude of terms, but you are rather attractive."

She glared at him. "What's with the nice guy act? What do you want?"

"What has your brother been doing with my sister?" He asked suddenly, and slightly threatening.

"What?! I don't know!"

He glared at her full force. "You know something."

"I promise you I don't. They're either dating or just friends, and Mattie swears they aren't dating."

"And you believe him?"

"He's my brother. He has nothing to hide from me."

He gripped her arm tightly. "If he does anything to her…"

She jerked away (mentally thanking the school for having weight training; she was much stronger now than she was before), "Don't touch me."

He drew back, eyes narrowed. "You say that a lot-"

"That's because I don't like being touched and you're always trying to touch me!"

"But you do not mind it with your other friends – with Arthur."

"What does he have to do with this?" She asked, genuinely confused.

"Nothing." He muttered, putting his hand back into his lap. But it was everything. She was constantly in the company of young man that, though he was loathe to admit, were really quite good looking. And they didn't know of the little gem, that lovely sapphire hidden in the midst. Amelia's beauty was going ignored, all because a bunch of pig-headed morons couldn't see it.

"You're being really weird today." She told him. "Are you sick?"

"Nyet."

She shrugged, and cast around for a different topic, since they still had about 10 minutes left in class. "What do you have next period?"

He looked down when he answered. "Art."

She blinked, surprised. "Really?"

"Yes… I'm a sculptor. Of sorts."

"I… didn't know that."

"That's because I don't talk about it."

She suddenly remembered who he was and where he came from. Her mouth formed a little 'o' in realization. "Ivan, do you want to be an architect?"

He glanced at her, suddenly shy, before nodding once.

"That's…" She offered him a smile. "That's really cool, Ivan."

"Spasibo." He responded carefully.

The bell rang and she collected her books. "We're almost done!" She exclaimed happily. "And then it'll be the fair! I really think we have a shot at winning."

He shrugged noncommittally. When did she get so chatty and excitable? It was irritating him. But at the same time… the way her eyes shone with enthusiasm, as if she really enjoyed working on this. The project, he remembered, had been her idea after all. He had just been along for the ride. He wondered what their relationship would be after the fair, when they wouldn't have to be in such close quarters.

He shook his head and headed to his first day of art class. He had taken a few classed before, in middle school, but had stopped when he felt it was silly. Now, however, the smells of paints and oils, of dust and paper and clay, washed over him and he realized how much he missed working with his hands. Forget being a doctor or a lawyer or anything like that. He was going to be the greatest architect the world had every seen.

* * *

**A/N: **Words cannot express how sorry I am about not updating. You guys were relying on updates and then I didn't give them. I do hope that the wait was worth, even though I wrote this in only a few hours after I finally, FINALLY got over my writers' block. hope you enjoyed. I'll try to update again soon!


End file.
